Dark Redemption
by Cid62
Summary: Slytherins have lots of secrets. An American witch from Salem is about to be drawn into a web of intrigue, romance, and lies. DE/Slyther-centric, features Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and Walden Macnair. Rated M for a reason. Part I of a trilogy. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1-A Different Kind of Chess Game

**DARK REDEMPTION**

**Chapter 1 – A Different Kind of Chess Game**

_**June, 2000, Ministry of Magic Offices, London England**_

"Could you state your name and profession for the record, please?"

"Yes. My name is Rowan Hawthorne, and I'm the History of Magic Professor at the Salem Witches' Institute in Massachusetts.

"Would you please elaborate for me how you became part of the wizarding community of the United Kingdom?"

"It's…going to require a lot of elaboration, I'm afraid. You see, I am also a practitioner of what most of the American wizarding community calls 'religious witchcraft.'

"Yes, I believe it's the same here," the interviewer said. "Do please continue; if we get too far off track I shall let you know."

"Well, you see, in late October, 1992, after our regular Samhain celebration, one of my friends contacted me and invited me to visit the United Kingdom. This friend of mine, Michele, had married a British wizard, Bryan Smythe, who was friends with Charles Weasley."

The interviewer's eyebrows rose, but he remained silent.

"Through this friendship, he, Bryan, that is, was able to arrange a visit to Hogwarts for me, as I'd always wanted to see it. In early November, I made the visit. That was when I met Professor Severus Snape. After that visit, we continued seeing each other. Er, the Professor and I, I mean. We maintained a long-distance relationship for a couple of years, which was kept very quiet. In 1994, we were handfasted. That's…well, rather like a marriage, if you're familiar with it. It was also kept very quiet."

"I am indeed familiar with such a procedure, but I must admit I am at a bit of a loss here. You've just indicated that you were handfasted with, er, Headmaster Snape…and obviously, we all know that is no longer the case. However, I was under the impression, Madam Hawthorne, that you had a slightly different name," interjected Barrister Percy Weasley.

"I'm sorry. I'll get to that part. I did say my story required a bit of elaboration; but, for the record...my full legal name is Rowan Hawthorne Macnair."

_**May 1994, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England**_

Mrs. Avery (Lucinda to her friends) had brought her chess set on the night of the Beltane 1994 Revel at Malfoy Manor, and arranged for Walden Macnair to be her consort for the entire evening, as she had for many years. She waited for him in Room 15, her usual trysting room. When the bell rang for the first hour and she opened the door, he stood there with an odd look on his face. His eyes were flashing and he was smiling a bit.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, as he kissed her hand.

He didn't need to say anything as he took her in his arms and lowered her to the bed.

That night, the chessboard sat unplayed on the bedside table throughout several hourly bell-rings. She had been married to Avery since they'd both left school, and thus she was a veteran of the Revels. She'd watched the evolution of the events into their current, rather over-choreographed form. Thus, certain privileges had been granted to her; one of them was permission to allow Walden to stay in the room with her for as long as she wanted.

When they finally lay back, sated, against the pillows, Lucinda reached over to the drinks cabinet, just for something to do.

"I'm sorry," Walden said, after a few minutes of awkward silence. "I think I may have forced ye...I didna mean to disrespect ye…ye're my friend." He'd pulled the sheet up over himself and looked a bit dismayed.

"If I hadn't wanted it to happen," Lucinda said, "I would have stopped you." She looked very sad. "I'm the one who should apologise; I do believe it was actually my fault. I normally don't drink the potion; I don't know what I was thinking."

"I had three goblets of it," Walden said. "Was going to go to the Main Revel…guess I've missed it," he added, rather unnecessarily, as he stretched a bit. It was 2 AM.

"It appears so," Lucinda said, as she sipped at her wine. "Would you like some whiskey?"

"Aye," he said, sitting up and accepting a glass from her. The sheet slipped down, revealing his muscular chest and the line of thick black hair that reached down past his navel. Lucinda couldn't help staring at him; she'd always thought he was quite good-looking. He smiled at her before taking a drink, then he sat the drink on the table next to him. "Honestly, though…I enjoyed meself…did ye?"

"Yes, very much," she muttered, her head bowed. "You know what things are like at our house. And they've not improved any."

Walden got up and headed off to the loo. "I'll be right back," he said. When he returned, she hadn't moved. And he hadn't bothered to put his robe back on. She looked up at him. He climbed into bed next to her and took her in his arms. "The potion's still workin' on me. And I've been very lonely for a long time, and I know how ye feel. I care for ye, lass. Let me help ye forget things for a while, give ye some more pleasure," he said, as he began to kiss her.

* * *

Lucinda wasn't sure what to think or expect as she arrived for the June Revel. She and Walden were not, of course, seated at the same table for dinner. Nevertheless, she drank the potion and made the regular arrangements, wondering if the same thing that had happened eight weeks previous would happen again. She did set up the chessboard, though, just in case.

Once again, no chess was played. Walden was positively ravenous that night. They stopped a few times for food and drink but the rest of the evening was spent in such vigorous trysting that Lucinda had to ring the house-elves for two more goblets of potion, and she feared that she'd need to go see a Healer after the weekend was over.

At 3 AM, after they'd taken a long bath and had yet another round of food and drinks, they sat together in Walden's guest room and talked.

"I almost wasna even going tae come tonight," Walden said. "I doona know if ye heard what happened…" and he let his voice drift off as he reached for his glass of whiskey.

"Avery told me something," Lucinda said. "There was supposed to be an execution at the school?"

"Aye, the night Sirius Black escaped," Walden said. "The hippogriff escaped, too, and Lucius is verra mad at me, but he hasna said much. Now I owe him…I just doona know what he'll ask me tae do, or when. I feel like I'm the one with me head on the block now," he added.

"Yes, you know Avery has been in that same situation many a time," Lucinda said. "I'm sorry you are, though, Walden. Perhaps it won't be anything too horrible?"

"I'm hopin' not," Walden replied, as he picked up his wand and levitated the whiskey bottle toward him. "But ye know how he is. He offered me tickets to the World Cup tonight…figure it'll be then, and he may even ask tae be paid back." He frowned. "Isobel spent all those Galleons he gave me to kill the beast, ye know. I gave 'em to her tae take to Gringotts, but she went to Gladrags instead. Heather told me she came home with a trunk full o'new things."

Lucinda smiled. "I hope this doesn't offend, but I honestly don't know why she bothers."

"Nor do I," Walden said, chuckling a bit….

* * *

Lucinda did not try to contact Walden before the next Revel at the beginning of August, but she did take a bit of extra care with her appearance, to the point where her husband, unfortunately, noticed. He didn't say anything to her, though, preferring to take out his frustrations at the Main Revel. That night, she and Walden didn't play chess, either. The next morning, Walden took a very decorous leave from her after breakfast, and told her he'd see her at the World Cup.

_**May 1994, Provincetown, Massachusetts**_

"Inanna, please pass the drawn butter," I asked. We were at the Lobster Pot in Provincetown, Massachusetts, my favorite Muggle restaurant. Beer bottles, lobster shells, and plates full of cocktail sauce littered the table. By we, I mean the entire staff (all 13 of us) of the Salem Witches' Institute, and various significant others and friends. Inanna didn't appear to have heard me. "Inanna?" I tried again to get her attention, but she was in the midst of a very loud conversation with Rhiannon, our Headmistress (and my High Priestess).

"Damn it! Accio butter," I murmured this last, waving my wand furtively under the table, hoping no Muggles had seen me. The butter flew over and landed neatly next to my plate. Inanna certainly hadn't noticed—she was attempting to catch the eye of our waitress, and I had the feeling that she wasn't doing so to order any food, if you know what I mean. I dipped my lobster into the cholesterol-laden concoction and let a small, contented sigh escape my lips as I devoured the tasty morsel. I just couldn't bring myself to be a vegan, or even a vegetarian; hence, my farewell party was being held at a seafood restaurant.

"Yo! Where's my butter?" said Inanna (who was also not a vegetarian), as I began my second round of dipping. She whistled, with two fingers, at the waitress. "Hey Sweetcheeks! Bring more drawn butter and I'll make it worth your while…" she said, waving a folded up $10 bill of Muggle money at our (admittedly cute) waitress. The waitress winked at her. I rolled my eyes. Inanna was irrepressible, I loved her, and I'd miss her terribly.

"Harrumph! Seems to me that our guest of honor has been a little silent this evening," said Inanna, in a voice loud enough for most of the seaside town to hear. Unfortunately, she looked at me just as I was in the process of inserting a newly-peeled shrimp into my mouth, with a look of ecstasy on my face. "Guess we know what's on YOUR mind, eh, Rowan?"

Oh Gods. I regretted ever telling her exactly why I was relocating—true, she was my best friend, but she had such a mouth on her that by the end of this evening, everyone on the Eastern Seaboard was going to know my private business.

"I'd like to propose a toast," began Inanna, as she stood up. I blushed. The entire restaurant—patrons, staff, and probably even the doomed lobsters in the tanks—now had its eyes on Inanna. I stood up slowly and attempted to escape.

"Not so fast, chica!" Everyone at our table was standing up, and the two women on either side of me had grabbed my arms so that I couldn't leave. As both of them were Zen Buddhists, it was a testament to Inanna's considerable force of will. "I said, I'd like to propose a toast, to the best damned History Professor our school has ever seen. If I'm half as good as her, I will truly Blessed Be!"

Nice pun, I thought, staring at my shoes. I wasn't that good a History of Magic instructor, really, I thought gloomily. To my credit, though, for the past two years or so, I'd gotten a lot of extra-credit tutoring in the rise and fall of British Dark Wizardry…and I expected that I'd probably be getting even more. Inanna was continuing, "And furthermore, if I'm half as good as selling chochkes as she is, we'll be franchising our store before the year's out!" Everyone applauded, then raised their beers, sparkling waters, and pumpkin juice (mine; I had enchanted my glass), and we clinked glasses, and then they concluded by singing, "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow." Regardless of the gender confusion, some of the wait staff and patrons had even joined in singing. I waved at a couple of familiar folks—I had spent many Friday nights here over the last couple of years.

As the song finished, and more applause rang out, I walked down to Inanna's end of the table with a manila folder in hand and opened it. Inside were the ownership papers and the keys to my store, the Flying Witch. Even we had to follow some Muggle legalities—we did live in "Taxachusetts," after all. I handed a pen to Inanna to sign, and thus, the store became hers. Rhiannon dabbed a large purple handkerchief to her eyes. Maria, the Institute's visiting Professor of Afro-Cuban Diaspora Magical Traditions, held up her enchanted camera and attempted to herd us cats into a picture. Inanna slipped me an envelope containing a sizable wad of Gringott's Express Traveler's Cheques; I hugged her. Inanna, Rhiannon and I stood together and mugged, and Maria focused her camera. "OK, guys, smile and say…ABRACADABRA!" I didn't hear her correctly and instinctively started to grab for my wand, until I noticed Rhiannon and Inanna looking at me with quizzical expressions. Suddenly I felt very foolish and very much as if I no longer belonged in Massachusetts.

"You don't need to stay with me tonight, Inanna. I've been making this same trip alone nearly every weekend for a long time now." We were walking down the main street toward the beach. Everyone who hadn't been using brooms tonight had piled in Rhiannon's old Muggle car (a Volvo, natch) and headed back to Salem, after the monstrous bill had been settled.

"Do you tell them you're on a whale-watching hike every weekend?" Inanna asked.

"I don't always stay at the same place; I don't want to make any of the Muggles suspicious," I responded.

Inanna's hair was blue that week, and she played with a vertical strand of it. "Then let's at least stay at one of the gay guesthouses."

"Look, I've been trying to tell you I'm straight since I met you. And all my stuff is at the hotel already—I'm not moving it, dammit," I chuckled.

"Oh, come on. Heathcliff won't mind you having one last fling, will he?" She looked at me quizzically, and stuck her tongue out, revealing the shiny barbell there.

"Inanna, his name is Severus Snape, as you know, and as I have told you at least a million times or more, possibly, so will you stop messing around about that!" By this time, we had reached the beach, and I stopped to remove my Birkenstocks (black, of course) and carry them.

"Well, he looks like a tortured Gothic hero to me. In that picture you gave me, he's always dressed in black, he's standing on a moor, and he's either got his back to me or he's gone. I've even gotten up in the middle of the night to try and catch him!"

I could just picture it. "Inanna, he _always_ wears black—as if you have any room to talk about that! And that picture WAS taken on a moor! He doesn't like pictures, and he is very reclusive. What's the big deal?"

Inanna continued without acknowledging what I had said—she was rather persistent, "And the one time I DID manage to actually see his face, he scowled at me and ran off. Are you sure about this guy?"

"Inanna, I'm not discussing this with you anymore. Haven't you brought your share of U-Hauls along with you on second dates, and I've never been anything other than supportive of you, even that time with the wrestler?" I jammed my baseball cap a bit further down on my head, as the wind began to pick up.

"She was retired from the WWF! She was a mechanic!" Inanna protested.

"Yeah, she certainly managed to screw YOU over, didn't she?" I smirked.

"I eventually got all my credit cards back…" her voice drifted off as she looked out over the breaking waves and adjusted one of her myriad earrings. She was the only one at the Institute with more visible piercings than I.

"That's not the point, Inanna, and you know it."

"Well, I didn't completely change my life for her. OR move to another country, Miss Expatriate!"

"Look, Inanna, you know that I've been bored with the Institute and with Massachusetts for years."

"Maybe…but you have CHANGED. You act like you've got some…I dunno…some big secret, that you're embarrassed to tell. And we've never had secrets from each other, and I'm wondering what the fuck is up with that?" Inanna paused in the middle of these sentences to draw a huge question mark in the sand with the toe of her Doc Marten.

"I don't have any secrets from you, Inanna." _Like hell I don't,_ I thought, as I erased the question mark with my bare foot. It was a good thing Inanna didn't practice Legilemency. Further, I hoped she wasn't planning to read any of my History of Magic books too closely right away, especially the recent parts about Death Eaters. Thank the Goddess Severus was wearing long sleeves in that picture. I sighed aloud. "You now know more about my livelihood and life than anyone, now that you own the store."

"I'm not talking about money, or the building, or taxes, or any of that Muggle shit. Hell, the accountant knows that. I think there's something really weird about this guy, something you're not telling me. You've changed and I think he…did something to you." Maybe she was psychic.

"Inanna, isn't it obvious what Severus does to me? And what he continues to do…" my voice drifted off as I stared up at the stars, and then at the blackness of the Atlantic, over which I would soon be crossing (by magickal means, of course). I'd finally decided, rather than spending all my money on Portkeys, to go ahead and just move to England. Severus had helped me to arrange a short-term lease on an apartment (the proprietor called it a flat, but whatever) over the Apothecary on Diagon Alley, where I'd also be working, too.

Why I needed to do that when he owned a manor house in the country, though, seemed rather odd to me. We'd only stayed there for several weeks last summer, though. Maybe he rented it out during the rest of the year. It had seemed as if we'd only occupied a few rooms. I hadn't asked him for any details, as he was an extremely secretive man. On our first weekend together, he had revealed that he'd been one of Voldemort's henchmen in the past. I hadn't immediately run away in horror from this revelation, as I'd been associated (briefly) with a Dark wizard in New Orleans. Nevertheless, after he gave me some rather sketchy details, and warned me away from certain personages, we'd mostly stuck to neutral topics of discussion.

Most of the time, I provided a sounding board for him to rant about his job, which he did an awful lot. I'd considered suggesting that he retire, especially after the humiliation he'd suffered at the end of this year, but apparently, he owed something to Dumbledore.

Of course, most of our activities didn't require long discussion or much negotiation, other than the occasional safeword.

Inanna waved her hands in front of my face, bringing me abruptly back to the present. "Yada, yada, yada. You and Lord Byron have a lot of great sex. No gory details, PLEASE; you know I've been single for the last six months. Look, Rowan. All I'm trying to say is—men come and go, but girlfriends are forever. If there's something wrong, you can tell me."

"Inanna, normally, given a situation like this, I'd agree with you that something was fishy. But you don't know Severus. There is something really different about him.."

"AHA!" she cried, jumping up and down. "See! Spill it! I knew it!"

"I can't even begin to describe what it's like, being with him…" I began. And I couldn't, really. When we were together, he'd hand me a glass of his special absinthe derivative, and off we'd go.

"SHIT! Stop right there, girl. You sound like a fucking Harlequin romance novel or something. You can't describe your feelings, but you're chucking your life away for this clown!" She reached in the pocket of her leather jacket and extricated a photograph, the one she had mentioned earlier. A line of rocks and a patch of grass were depicted in it. It appeared devoid of any human life. I knew the place well—it was somewhere in Ireland. Severus and I had been there on many occasions over the last few months, and while there on one of those occasions, I had used a borrowed wizarding camera to take his picture (at my request; he was not happy about it).

"Damn it! The asshole's still gone! Where the hell does he go?" Inanna waved the picture in my face, as if to shake Severus out of its corners. "Come on, Goth-boy, come out and stand up for yourself, you…you….friend-stealer!"

"Inanna, what the hell are you doing? Exactly how long did you say you'd been a witch?" I asked, leaning over and looking closely at the picture. A large black snake appeared to be sunning itself on the rocks. As I stared at it, its tongue flicked at me and it slithered away. I stifled a grin. "Look. If we don't get back to the hotel, not even a nuclear device is going to get you up at 3 a.m., and I'm NOT waiting for the next Portkey."

"Oh, eat me, bitch! Let's get another brew or something and THEN call it a night. I'm certainly not going to stand in the way of true love, or impure lust, or whatever you crazy kids call it these days." She stowed the picture back in her pocket, but not before she looked at it oddly. "Funny. I never noticed that snake before," she murmured.

* * *

BLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP!

CRASH!

"Whaaa….fuck?" I mumbled, sleepily.

BLEEP! BLEEP!

CRASH!

It was clearly 3 a.m.

"Hey!" I shouted weakly. Apparently the crashes had come from both of Inanna's Doc Martens, which she had flung through the air in an attempt to silence the alarm clock. I reached over and turned off the offending object. "I'm not paying for it if you break it…" I croaked, trying to sound threatening. Another brew had turned into several brews, and it had been 12:30 or so before I had finally convinced Inanna to head for the hotel. She was muttering something about "Dark wizards and black snakes…" as I put her to bed. I had decided not to ask.

"Come on," I said, tugging at Inanna's blankets, which were immovable. "You can come back here and sleep until noon after you've walked me out to the Portkey. You said you wanted to see me off…" I was pulling on random clothes. I figured that I'd worry about showers and the like when I got to England.

"Arrrrrrrrrghhhhhhh…." mumbled Inanna. "Start the revolution without me. D'we have any coffee?"

I started to wave my wand at an empty plastic mug on the counter and then reconsidered. "Screw coffee," I said, reaching into my backpack and handing her a small purple bottle. I withdrew a second one for myself. "Drink this." I took a small sip out of my bottle.

"What is it?" she said from under the two pillows that covered her head.

"Just come out and have some, dammit!"

She sipped at the bottle with a skeptical look. Her eyes opened widely and she jumped out of bed, completely awake. "Where the HELL did you get that shit?"

"Where the hell do you _think_ I got it?" I smirked.

"THIS is the kind of psychocandy that Professor Willy Wonka makes? No wonder he's so rich," she said, retrieving her left Doc Marten from where it was wedged behind the bedside table.

"Damn it, Inanna," I spluttered (although I had thought the same on many occasions) "Willy Wonka? Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?"

"Well," she said innocently with a slight trace of a Southern drawl (her family was from Georgia) "I can never remember his name," as she reached for her other shoe, which was on top of the clock radio. "Caligula, was it?"

"Oh, give me a break, beeee-yotch!" I grabbed the shoe before she did and ran for the bathroom, locking the door behind me. She began pounding on it. "HEY! Don't we have to go soon?"

"Shit!"

Within minutes, we had dragged my two trunks out the door. They contained only my most treasured items. Everything else had been sold, or was in storage at the Institute ("In case you should ever need to come back, bubbeleh," Rhiannon had said, while giving me a huge hug). After we had dragged the trunks across the street, I withdrew my wand. "Do you see anyone?" I whispered to Inanna.

"No, Agent X-13, the coast is Muggle-clear," she answered.

"Oh, cram it, Clownie," I replied, pointing my wand at the trunk and muttering. The trunks rose into the air and levitated in front of us.

"Ya know," said Inanna, as we walked along, "…seeing as how I failed Latin in Catholic school, does that mean I can't learn to do any of that fancy- shmancy magick that, er, Trentus Reznorus taught you? OUCH!" I had stopped one of the trunks so that she ran into it.

"Woops. Sorry about that!" I said. "And if you EVER want to come and visit me, you'd better stop that crap right now, Cornholio!"

"Woooo-ooooo! Awfully sensitive on the subject, aren't you," replied Inanna, as she scanned the ground for the Portkey. "Hell, what with getting to know the store AND your class materials, I won't have a goddamned vacation for two years. And who knows if I'll even be able to save any money for it…."

"I'll pay for your vacation, Inanna," I said.

"Thanks. Maybe I'll meet some dark, mysterious, Gothic British witch and we can double-date, or something," she said, with a wistful smile on her face. "Although maybe not, Michele says that she's heard that Herr Professor is an asshole."

"WHAT!" My trunks dropped to the ground and I nearly tripped over them.

Inanna held up the Portkey (the usual—a battered flip-flop). "You heard me. She sent me an owl last week. And you know her, she didn't say asshole, exactly, but she might as well have."

I looked at my watch frantically. Ten minutes to go. This was a fine time to find out that yet another of my friends didn't approve of my life choices. Inanna handed me the Portkey and began stacking my trunks on top of each other and bungee-cording them together. I was still stunned. "Damn. They've only met him that one time! And they all seemed to get along. She spent money on a Relay Service owl to tell you about some stupid rumor?"

"Well, she said one of Bryan's friends knows him, some guy named Charlie. Apparently your buddy was one of Charlie's teachers. And the owl wasn't just about that…well, not exactly."

"How not exactly?" I climbed on top of the trunks, clutching the Portkey. Inanna attached some more bungee cords to the trunk and fastened them over me, not replying. "Charlie Weasley, if I recall correctly, was the one who arranged my visit to the school in the first place. Michele has always been one to exaggerate. She's just annoyed because she and Bryan have yet to get their coven organized after a year of being there, and she knows I'm going to hassle her about it." I continued.

Inanna reached up and gave me a hug. "Ah, what the hell does she know, anyway," she said. "She's been pissed about your love life ever since you didn't date that damned animal rights goofball that she fixed you up with that time. Now, I agree with you; he was a dork." BEEP! BEEP! Inanna's watch beeped. "Two minutes to go, kiddo," she said. "I'm withholding judgment on him until Rhiannon and I finish our research, anyway."

"Wait! WHAT research?" We hugged again.

"Ah, never mind about that. Be careful! Send lots of owls! Send me a cute British witch, C.O.D.! Byeeeeeeeeee….." and her voice faded as I was jerked into a whirlpool of sound and color and light that grew increasingly brighter.


	2. Chapter 2 -At the Quidditch World Cup

**DARK REDEMPTION**

**Chapter 2 – At the Quidditch World Cup**

_**August 1994, a remote camping area somewhere in the English countryside**_

Dropping the Portkey, a crumpled, rusty can of Jolt Cola (the American Portkey wizards had shown, as always, their bizarre sense of humor), Inanna, Rhiannon and I picked up our equipment and began to lug it down the length of the grassy field. We paid a nice, rather confused-looking Muggle, and were assigned campsites.

"Gods, how far do you think it is to our site?" wheezed Rhiannon, who was not in good shape. She was wearing a XXXL "God Is Coming and She Is Pissed" t-shirt, which was covered in sweat.

"Who the hell knows," answered Inanna. "I'm not even awake yet. I was up until one in the morning training that new girl to work the register. These kids who have never been around Muggle stuff…geez. Why do they _always_ want to work in the store?" She paused to fiddle with her amber necklace, which was composed of golfball-sized chunks, and then, grimacing, took off her shoe and shook a rock out of it.

"Look, we're all tired," I said. "I warned you. It's Portkey lag—the Atlantis Effect. But this anti-Muggle security crap is lame. I could have levitated this stuff if not for that. It's all going to be worth it, though, I've been rooting for Ireland for ages now…" I stopped to wipe my forehead with the hem of my Chudley Cannons t-shirt (yeah, they weren't very good, but I always rooted for the underdog), knocking my shamrock-covered bowler hat off in the process.

"Rowan, you never struck me as the sports-loving type," said Rhiannon, setting down her backpack for the fifth time. "Living over here has certainly changed you."

"Hey, Quidditch is a lot cooler than Quodpot. Wait till you see it. You'll love it! And Inanna, you should see some of the girls on the Cannons—you'd move over here in a microsecond!" I jammed the hat back onto my head and gave it a jaunty little twist.

"Really? I might look into it. I didn't know you even noticed such things, you with your Professor and all. Hey, is he here yet? I could really use some of that wake-up stuff you gave me that time in Provincetown. Do you have some?" Even through her Wayfarers, I could tell her eyes were red and bleary. We began to walk again.

"No, sorry. And he should be here directly," I said, checking my watch. "He's making some sort of special brew for us tonight, though, he said. And the match doesn't actually start until tomorrow, so we've got loads of time."

"It won't be soon enough that we get to our verkakte campsite," groaned Rhiannon, exhaustedly. "Are we THERE yet?"

"Wow!" exclaimed Inanna. "Look at all these witches and wizards! This is better than Pagan Spirit Gathering! Check out that tent!" and she pointed to a three-story purple one with a peacock strutting in front of it.

"Here we go, this has got to be ours," I said, pointing to a sign that read RIANON.

"Nice," said Rhiannon. "A bit Continental-sounding, isn't it." She unceremoniously dumped her stuff on the ground and sat on it heavily. "Oy…"

Inanna began putting up her tent. "How much room does the Professor need for his tent?" she asked me.

"I have no idea," I responded. "I didn't even know he owned one until last week."

"Didn't you say he lives in a dungeon or something? Maybe he'll just dig a big hole in the ground for you two," Inanna snickered as she began to tap in the tent stakes with a mallet.

"Not again, Inanna. Please try to be nice. He's been in a foul mood for months. The end of the last school year was rather bad for him…" my voice drifted off as I thought about what had occurred. During the previous school year, he had achieved a sort of tenuous detente with Remus Lupin, at last, but after a showdown at the Shrieking Shack, the details of which he had refused to tell me, that was lost. Apparently, he'd also been humiliated in some way, but he hadn't explained exactly how, either. We had, of course, spent weekends together, but they had mostly been miserable. I had been hoping that things would be different in the summer, after I'd moved to Diagon Alley. My understanding Apothecary boss, Ambrosius, had given me rather flexible hours.

There had been no visits to the manor house and no rides in the car, merely extremely unsatisfying interludes at the apartment. I did not ask him for any details, nor did he provide any.

Last month, though, he had invited me and my Institute friends to the World Cup. The Minister of Magic had personally sent him the tickets—apparently the Sirius Black incident had precipitated the gift.

"Mmmmm….," said Rhiannon, sounding a lot like Marge Simpson. I hadn't even noticed that she was listening in to the conversation. "I warned you about him, Rowan…Dumbledore assured me he's kosher, but I don't know…some of the stuff you've told me sounds more than a little meshuggeh…"

_Dumbledore had told her…what, exactly?_ "Look, it's a long story. There was this convicted murderer, and a werewolf…" The werewolf. He'd actually seemed rather nice to me, the one time I'd met him at the Three Broomsticks. I decided to forge on. "Anyway. He saved these kids' lives and they were less than grateful. You'd be pissed, too."

"He sounds like he hangs out with a pretty rough crowd, Rowan," said Rhiannon, who looked worried.

_You don't know the half of it_, I thought. "Well, not really," I said. _Not anymore_, I thought. I looked over to where Inanna was erecting a huge, sparkling banner that read "THE SALEM WITCHES' INSTITUTE."

"Think maybe that'll get us some publicity? That cute chick at Kinko's helped me make it. She thinks it's for my Halloween party," said Inanna.

We all cackled. "When are the Californians getting in, Rhiannon, do you know?" I asked.

"They should be along shortly, but I don't envy them…"said Rhiannon, who had tried, and failed to get up from her pile of equipment. "Their Portkey is at the top of Mt. Tamalpais." She finally hoisted herself up and began rummaging through her backpack.

"Haven't you asked that girl at Kinko's out yet?" I remarked to Inanna. "You've been mooning over her for months!"

"Oh, puh-leeze! She is SO hopelessly Muggle. I've just got a bad case of lust…"

"You could invite her to your _private_ Halloween party…" I continued, with a smirk.

"As if! Look, Rowan, not everyone gets swept away by the partner of their dreams in a weekend, you know. Some of us are still out there, trying to get a date. So get off my case," but she smiled at that last.

I flicked my wand and sent a pillow directly toward Inanna's head, while yelling, "Hey…you're always hassling me about that weekend thing…cut it out…" Inanna dodged the pillow and began running. I chased her.

"Gods, you two, how _can_ you have any energy left after that death march?" sighed Rhiannon heavily, erecting a large, iron tripod and hanging a cauldron from it.

"Take that!" yelled Inanna, sending a role of paper towels flying toward me. She picked up another one and started to aim it, but I waved my wand and intoned "Wingardium Leviosa!" and the towel roll flew into the air and then back down again, bonking her on the head.

"NO FAIR!" said Inanna, as she stomped over to adjust the banner, which had gotten knocked over a bit during our horseplay. "Truce! You know perfectly well I don't know how to do any of those spells. You've had a lot of (and at this, she vamped up her voice and gave a little burlesque-style bump-and-grind)…PRIVATE tutoring."

"Shee-it. I am going to kick your cute dyke ass from here to Hogsmeade! Without magic!" and I started after her again, but Rhiannon held up her hand.

"Girls, girls, please! Rowan, watch the magic, will ya, kiddo? That parchment told us to be discreet!"

"Yeah, like YOU are, right?" said Inanna.

Rhiannon had changed into a bright green flowing caftan-style robe and a hubcap-sized pentacle necklace. She was in the process of lacing on bright blue Renaissance-style boots as she spoke. "I wear this stuff at home," she complained. "Let's get something to eat. Or at least, some coffee."

"I'll go get some water," volunteered Inanna. "Hey Rowan, want to come with? Are any of those Quidditch jockettes around, do you think?" She ran her hands through her hair (green that week, in honor of the Ireland Quidditch team). "Hey, are there any vendors here?" she asked.

"I'm sure there are, but you don't need anything, you own a shop, remember? And ya know, Wilma Flintstone called, her necklace is missing," I said, pointing at the amber chunks that ringed her neck.

"Hell, Professor Dreamboat hasn't taught you how to combat NOOGIES!" she yelled, grabbing me around the neck and knocking me on the head with her fist (but lightly) repeatedly.

"OW! QUIT IT! OW! QUIT IT!" I yelled.

"Will you all just get out of here and get that water, or whatever? You're embarrassing me!" yelled Rhiannon, who was in the midst of placing a large plastic pink flamingo in front of her tent.

Inanna and I trudged off like disobedient schoolchildren toward the water tap, passing many strange and wonderful campsites along the way. We even made it most of the way back, but I knew I had lost Inanna when she spotted a large sign reading "QUIDDITCH GRRRLS RULE!" in front of a camouflage-patterned tent. She stopped, turned to me, and gave a huge smile. "I think I like England already," she said.

"Look, you can just meet us back at the tent later," I told her. "Rhiannon's probably going to take a nap, anyway."

"Yeah, whatever. But I'll be back real soon, though, because there is NO WAY that I'm going to miss the arrival of Herr Professor…what's his name, again, you know I always forget it. Something weird, right?" she smirked.

"Oh, get OVER it." I sighed. She continued staring at me. "Severus Snape. PLEASE stop making a big deal over it."

"I'm not, I'm not…. it's just that…damn, where DO these British wizards get their names, anyway. He sounds like a…"

"Shut UP, like you have room to talk, MOONWOMON!" Yes, that really was her last name.

"Hey. I know it's a silly name and all, but it was given to me at the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival, where I had a life-changing experience…and need I remind you that I would never have eventually gotten to the Institute or met you, you big goofball, if I hadn't gone to that ritual." She set down the water and gave me a big bear hug. "I love you, sistah. You know that. You know I'm just razzing you, just because your honey sounds like he's a villain out of Charles Dickens' lost Roman epic or something…" she snickered.

"AUGH! I am going to open a can of whoop-ass on you SO fast, girl…"

"Oi! Can we join in, then?" The Quidditch Grrls had apparently taken notice of us, and headed over. They were a cheerful bunch. We shook hands all around and introductions were made. Inanna immediately got pulled into a conversation with two women in leather jackets with crossed broomsticks painted on the back, both wearing Doc Martens.

"Melissa Bell," said a large girl, to me. She looked as if she could have been a Beater in her Quidditch days—perhaps she still was. "Eh, what's that, then?" she asked, pointing at my chest, where my pentacle hung.

"Er…a pentacle?" I had noticed that not a lot of British witches and wizards wore them. But most, however, did at least know what they were.

"No, not that—did you go to Hogwarts, then? I didn't know any Yanks ever went there." They didn't, of course, except on visits. Oh Gods. She was looking at my other necklace, the one that I usually concealed inside my shirt…the Slytherin serpent one, the one that Severus had given me on our first weekend together.

"Ummm. No. Um. It's a…long story?" I replied. "Perhaps some other time…" I started to pick up my water bucket and head back to the (relative) safety of the campsite, and Rhiannon, with her uncomfortable questions and mothering attitude.

"Isn't that a Slytherin snake?" she continued.

"Ummm…really, it's been nice but I've gotta go…High Priestess…needs water." I gestured stupidly at the bucket. Did she think I was growing Priestesses or something? I didn't care.

"Oi! Angelina!" A tall, younger Black girl who looked vaguely familiar came over to us. I remembered, then, that she was on the Gryffindor team…and before I could stop myself, I said, to her "Hey, great season last year!" and instantly regretted it. The Gryffindors had won the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup in a very exciting game, one of a very few which I had attended—yet another reason why Severus was in a foul mood.

"Do you two know each other?" said Melissa, a true British bulldog if there ever was one.

"Er. No," I replied, before Angelina could say anything. "I, er, usually sit on the Slytherin side. I, er, know Professor Snape." WHY was I saying all this? I knew what sort of reaction his name produced in people. I was used to it, after two years spent with him, after all.

"What?! Are you that rotter's GIRLFRIEND or something?" yelled Melissa, who was a very quick study. I blushed, answering her question wordlessly. "BLOODY HELL! That…I barely passed Potions because of that slimy bastard! And he isn't very nice to my sister, either…He's nothing but a bullying, greasy git!" She was starting to look really angry.

"Ummm," I replied, looking at the ground.

"What's going on over here?" said Inanna, walking over with the two leather-jacketed women. "What's the matter, are these guys rooting for Bulgaria, or something?" Melissa was, by now, staring at me like I was an unwelcome guest in their campsite, or any campsite, for that matter. And even worse, she appeared to be making fists.

"Inanna!" I said, with some relief. _Backup_, I thought. "It, uh, seems as if we have an acquaintance in common." I mumbled, as I stuffed the serpent pendant surreptitiously back under my shirt.

"Yeah!" said Angelina. "Hey there, nice to meet you. Angelina Johnson. I play Quidditch for Gryffindor. You know, at Hogwarts," she added helpfully, as she shook Inanna's hand.

"So what's this about you and Snape, then, eh?" growled Melissa Bell, who was not going to be distracted, even by the extreme cuteness of Inanna.

"Oh, do you all know Rowan's Professor?" said Inanna, attempting to sound innocent. I gave her a swift punch in the side. "OW!" she said.

"Like I said, he's a bloody rotter! I barely passed my OWL because of that greasy bastard's bloody Potions class…."

"Because, Miss Bell, in said class, you paid much more attention to Miss Macnair than to me. You have a fine mind. I could have easily given you top marks if not for your…lack of focus," said Severus.


	3. Chapter 3-Californians, Tents, and

**DARK REDEMPTION**

**Chapter 3 – Californians, Tents, and Apologies**

I jumped. No matter how many times Severus materialized in such a fashion, I had never gotten used to it. He stood there, dressed in his Muggle-wear. We were all supposed to be dressed as Muggles, according to Ministry guidelines. Severus' interpretation of that was, honestly, not that different from what he wore to school-a long black leather jacket, black jeans, high boots, a black shirt, and his pendant, identical to mine (which Melissa immediately noticed, I saw to my chagrin). He was carrying an antique Muggle doctor's bag. He was completely drool-worthy. I suppressed a sigh.

"As a matter of fact," Severus continued—none of us were speaking or moving—"I just spoke with Miss Macnair. Her family's tent is just over that rise," and with this, he pointed lazily toward a clump of trees in the distance, "right next to the Malfoys'." At this last, he glanced at me and raised his eyebrow. Lucius Malfoy, of course, was one of those that Severus had repeatedly warned me away from, not that I ever had any dealings with him in my day-to-day existence. My jaw dropped. _No wonder Melissa had spotted the Slytherin snake right away_, I thought.

"Really?" Bell's voice appeared to have gone up several octaves since she had last spoken. "Um. Well. Thank you, Professor—must dash. See you all later! Cheerio!" And with that, she was off like a shot in the direction that Severus had just pointed.

"Rowan," he turned to me and gave me a look that I couldn't immediately interpret—it seemed to combine both lust and weariness, and something else that I didn't usually see from him; perhaps tenderness? "I am sorry that I am a bit late."

"Um, no problem, no problem at all," I replied, staring back at him. He took my hand and pulled me closer to him. Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor Quidditch player, was gaping at us with a look of complete amazement on her face. Just then, I felt something heavy step on my foot, and looked down. A Doc Marten.

"Harrrrrrrrrrrumph!" Inanna was clearing her throat very loudly. "Ack! Ack!" Now she was coughing. I gave her a swift punch in the ribs. "OUCH, DAMMIT!"

"Do you need some assistance, Miss?" Severus turned to her.

"Nothing that _you_ can help her with," I interjected. "Inanna, Inanna MOONWOMON, that is," I said this last in an exaggerated drawn-out way, "would you please meet Professor Severus Snape?"

He took her hand and bowed. Angelina Johnson, after seeing this, looked as if she had taken a hit from a Bludger.

"And Miss Johnson." He bowed toward her. "A pleasure to see you. And congratulations on your team's victory. However, I would advise you to watch out for our team next year," he added, and then muttered something afterwards.

"Er, yes, Professor, I'll do that…must run…" and she and the other two Quidditch Grrrls headed back toward the tent, all looking very confused. Oh no. He had given them all Memory Charms. He tended to do this whenever anyone saw us together.

The three of us began walking back toward our campsite. I remembered the bucket of water. Inanna was completely and uncharacteristically silent the entire way. When we reached the sparkling banner, the first thing I saw was Rhiannon, asleep in a bright pink folding chair, next to the empty cauldron, which had no fire under it. She was snoring loudly. _How embarrassing,_ I thought. A new tent was also up, presumably belonging to the Californians, but no Californians were in evidence.

"Maybe we should have been a bit quicker with the water," I said, loudly. Rhiannon jumped up. "Sorry, just resting my eyes…" she began, and then her jaw dropped. Clearly, she had spotted Severus. He did seem to have that effect on people. I had seen him scare wizard children, just by walking down the street on Diagon Alley, more than once. Inanna finally spoke up. "Well, Professor, I saved a spot for your tent, just over here," and she began to lead him away.

"Just a minute, Inanna," said Rhiannon, lumbering to her feet. "You must be Professor Snape." Perhaps we should put up a sign for him too, I thought. Or maybe he'd want to move his tent over next to Malfoy and McDuff, or whoever that was he had mentioned, although I sure as hell didn't want to be in the former Death Eaters camp. I wondered where that thought had come from and realized I hadn't eaten in a while.

Rhiannon was still talking. "Rhiannon Whitefeather of the Salem Witches' Institute," she said, putting out her hand.

"So I gathered," said Severus, glancing up at the banner with a smirk that only I noticed. He took her hand, kissed it and bowed. "A pleasure to meet you, Madam," he said. I was about to pass out from Courtly Manners Overload. After two years, despite the many and varied issues with our relationship, my addiction to Severus had gotten progressively worse.

"If you will excuse me," he continued, to Rhiannon, "I will be setting up our tent," he glanced at me, "and then I shall arrange some refreshments."

"Of course," she smiled. He had obviously charmed her. "Take your time_." Take your time? When refreshments were involved?_ He had clearly done more than charm her, but I didn't bother asking what, I merely followed him as he carried the black doctor's bag (it looked like it was made from snakeskin, of course) over to the area that Inanna indicated. Once there he opened it and pulled out a small black tent, which he set up with a furtive wave of his wand.

"It appears that I came at precisely the right time," he said, as he lifted up the tent flap.

"You seem to have a knack for it," I replied.

"So you've said. Do follow me," he continued, as he stepped into the tent, his hair flopping into his eyes as he did so. I was used to wizard tents, having used them at many pagan festivals in Massachusetts and elsewhere, but I was not prepared for this one. We walked directly into Severus' chambers at Hogwarts. He chuckled a bit at my discomposure. "Do you approve?" he asked.

"But…how? I thought you couldn't…" My heart gave a little leap at the familiar surroundings.

"This has nothing to do with Apparition, Rowan. It is a temporary portal that Albus helped me construct this morning. He seemed rather anxious that I should try and make you happy on this trip. And I agree with him." He walked over to the sofa in front of the fireplace and sat down, and procured a bottle of wine and two glasses. I joined him.

"I suppose I owe you an apology," I said.

"No, you merely owe me this," and he pulled me close, took the wine glass out of my hand, and kissed me. "Now I'd take you to bed, and rest assured, I want to, despite that ridiculous hat," he said, as he plucked off my Ireland bowler and tossed it on the floor. "But I fear we haven't much time; your friends would get suspicious…" and he kissed me again, this time deeper, his hands sliding under my T-shirt. "Woman, where did you find this horrible garment," he asked, as he slipped it over my head. "I thought we didn't have time," I gasped, as he brought his mouth to my breasts.

"Well…perhaps a short time," and he lowered me to the couch, and reached his hand up and snapped, and his leather jacket flew off. He sat up briefly and unzipped his Muggle pants and pulled them to his knees, and I reached down and removed my shorts and underwear in one smooth motion (I hadn't quite mastered the snapping charm yet). "Silly garments," he muttered, snapping his fingers and causing his shirt to fly across the room. Then, he reached for a bottle of something that I hadn't previously noticed and poured it onto his hand, massaging it onto my, and without warning he pushed me down and slid his cock into me, so hot, so huge…so completely perfect. We were still good together after two years; he was still able to bring me to the heights of passion that we had experienced during our first few incredible days together. Why had I stayed away from him so long? I felt as if I were on fire, and as he began to move I came, and he chuckled. "Did you miss me, then?" he asked. "Did you really need to ask that," I groaned in pleasure as he moved, fast and then agonizingly slowly inside me in a rhythm that was driving me mad with desire for him. "Yes…terribly," I sighed, and my hands slid around to his ass and I grabbed it, pulling him closer and forcing him deeper into me. "Oh…it's all for you, my love, all of it…all of me," he said, sighing with pleasure, and he felt so right, so perfect…I could feel him moving faster and faster, his hips pumping harder and harder, and we slid, locked together, off the couch and onto the floor. "Ahhhh…" he ground himself so tightly against me that I thought I would break. "Rowan…I missed you so much…" he moaned, and with that, both of us exploded simultaneously, careening into the stratosphere, shooting sparks as we went.

A few languid minutes later, as we lay entwined in each other's arms (we had returned to the couch at that point), I heard a muffled voice.

"Rowan? Are you in there?"

"That is so weird," I said, as I stroked Severus' chest. "That sounds like Inanna."

"Yes, she is—We shall both be out in a minute!" he yelled. "Have you forgotten where we are, Rowan?" he said to me, with a smirk.

"I guess I did," I said, chuckling, as I disengaged myself and stood up to retrieve my clothes. "Wow…that means we get to sleep in here…and take a bath here!" I hadn't looked forward to any sort of primitive arrangements.

"Do you honestly think that I would have forced you to do anything else? I don't see that as a fit punishment…I have other ideas," he said, grabbing me and slapping his hand on my bottom. "Lots of them," he said, reaching his hand up and pinching my nipple.

"Is that your idea of roughing it?" I said, chuckling, slipping my T-shirt over my head.

"Oh, I can get much rougher, if you would like…" he continued, with a leer.

"Don't we—uh, have to get back out there?"

"Right. We shall get back to that later, my dear. Here, I had the elves make a little something for us," and he gestured at a large picnic basket. "Will you take care of that?" and he stepped away toward his laboratory and emerged with a large cauldron floating in front of him. We stepped through the serpent passage, and then suddenly we were at the tent flap, stepping through again into the bright sunlight.

"Augh, how dreadful!" said Severus. "Accio sunglasses!" and he was instantly wearing a pair of them.

"Cool!" I exclaimed. "Would you please get mine, and my hat, I left them in there; my hands are a little full," I continued. I was carrying the picnic basket as I didn't want to be accused of using any more magic than I had to.

"If I must…" Severus sighed. "Accio!" He gave an extra little wave of his wand, and a mutter that I didn't quite hear. The sunglasses and hat placed themselves in their proper places on my head.

"Yo, homegirl!" said Inanna. "Aw-right! Chow time!" she said, as she spotted the picnic basket and cauldron. "Hey, what's up with your hat?"

I handed the picnic basket to Inanna and examined the bowler. "Hey! Severus! Fix my hat! I know you did this…" It was still green, but instead of Irish shamrocks, the hat now sported Slytherin snakes. On the back, there appeared to be an extremely dead Gryffindor lion, with flies buzzing over it. "REALLY funny. Wishful thinking, eh?"

Inanna was snickering. "Bad-ass tent you've got there, Professor!" He, meanwhile, was moving the cauldron over to the ring of chairs around the fire, speaking softly to Rhiannon. She moved her cauldron out of the way and hung his up from the iron frame. The three California witches, who I did not recognize, were standing up to greet Severus. The tent flap opened and two elaborate wooden folding chairs (with, what else, a snake motif) came floating out toward the other chairs and joined the circle.

"He is, like, totally not being discreet on the magic score," Inanna said, as we walked over toward the rest of the group with the picnic basket.

"Well, he tends to be sneaky, though, by nature, but yeah, you're right—he sure as hell stands out in a crowd, doesn't he?" I remarked. Inanna got up close to me. "Were you, um, in the tent—you know?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"I didn't hear anything! How did he—"

"You wouldn't believe it. But how did you know?"

"Well, you just told me—and your T-shirt is on inside out." So it was.

"Cover me," I said, and I quickly fixed it, as Severus walked up to where we stood.

"Undressing again, so soon?" he asked, with a smirk. "Much as I appreciate your ardour (Inanna giggled at this), please do come and join us with the food, if you would."

Inanna continued to laugh. "He still hasn't fixed your hat, either…"

The cauldron was full of a bubbling purple liquid that tasted a lot like fizzy grape drink, but was completely intoxicating. The California witches indicated that they didn't drink alcohol, so Severus poured some of the potion into Rhiannon's cauldron, waved his wand over it, and invited them to enjoy it. No matter how much the rest of us ladled drinks out of the cauldron, the level of liquid in it never seemed to lower. Everyone, except for the California witches, who were already silly enough, got extremely tipsy. The picnic feast was beyond compare.

Inanna whispered to me as we were in the midst of enjoying it, "Hell, Rowan, all I brought to eat was warm Diet Pepsi and trail mix. Boy, am I glad Professor Marveloso showed up." I elbowed her.

"Ouch! And he changed your hat back!" she cried.

I took it off and examined it. Snakes again. I turned to Severus, who was having a conversation with one of the California witches about herbs native to her area. "Pardon me?" I held up the hat, turning it around as I did so. The Gryffindor lion on the back appeared to have gone into rigor mortis.

"Oh. However could _that_ have happened?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow, and waved his wand at it.


	4. Chapter 4 -The Concern of Friends

**DARK REDEMPTION**

**Chapter 4 – The Concern of Friends and a Modest Proposal**

The sun was beginning to sink to the Western horizon, toward the hills of America. The air was cooling off a bit. I stood up and was a bit chilled, despite my intake of the mysterious fizzy purple stuff.

"Hey, Rowan, want to take a quick walk?" asked Inanna, who was already standing up. As Severus was now speaking with Rhiannon and seemed to be enjoying himself, I waved at him and headed off with Inanna.

"He is…really interesting, Rowan."

"What do you mean, interesting?" I was familiar with the Chinese saying concerning "interesting times," and hoped that wasn't what she meant. I was slurring my words, just the tiniest bit. I saw a star twinkling above the trees. _Like a tea tray in the sky_, I thought, and realized that I was quite intoxicated.

"You know," answered Inanna. We were heading toward her tent and paused before we stepped into it.

"Er, I really don't," I replied, although I did. It appears the fizzy purple stuff affected psychic perception, as well. I just let her continue, though.

"Look. I won't mince words. Are you positive that he is—well, what he says he is? All that black clothing, all that snake stuff. And what was going on with that jockette before I came over? Rowan, he—well, aren't you just the tiniest bit concerned that he _might_ be a Dark wizard?" She stopped, as if she had revealed too much. "There. I've said it."

"Inanna, the snake thing has to do with his House, at school. It's like, you know, a sports team mascot or something." That really sounded weak, I thought.

"Rowan…"

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. We can talk about it later, when I've sobered up," she said, as she lifted up her tent flap. We walked in to a 1960's Haight-Ashbury hippie crash pad. Sitar music played, incense burned, and love beads hung from every available surface. Jimi Hendrix waved and winked at me from a poster on one wall, and Jerry Garcia and friends, all with identical wide grins, held up large, hand-rolled cigarettes from a poster on the other wall.

"Groovy, dude! Where on earth did you get it?" This was easily the coolest wizarding tent I had ever been in.

"Thanks. Rhiannon got it for me, for my birthday," she said, and gestured toward a beaded curtain to her left. I stepped into the bathroom and smiled. Black light posters adorned the walls and I saw what appeared to be a roach next to the soap dish. I looked in the mirror (which was surrounded by a rainbow). My hat still had snakes on it, and one of them appeared to be squeezing yet another ill-fated lion on the back to death. Great. I looked faintly whacked-out. When I emerged, Inanna was sitting on a paisley-covered mattress on the floor.

"Girl," she said. "Look. I'm just trying to make sure that Severus doesn't hurt you, because he looks as if he could just as easily as breathing. Both Rhiannon and I are going to keep an eye on you. It's the least we can do—considering how Michele has essentially dissed you."

I was having trouble breaking these sentences up into pieces to which I could reply. She actually called him Severus, I thought first, with amazement. And I didn't even want to go into the whole Michele mess. "Thanks," I said, and accepted the hand-rolled cigarette that she passed to me. When in Rome, I thought, although it wasn't going to help my ability to make coherent sentences, and that seemed important.

"We all miss you, Rowan," she continued. "Why don't you come home?"

"Inanna, my home is here now. With Severus." I coughed a bit through these words.

"I—look. I'm not handling this well. I think that I'd better let Rhiannon tell you."

"Tell me what?" My heart began to beat rapidly, and I felt a bit of paranoia coming on. I wrote it off to the smoking.

"Never mind for right now. Let's get back out there." And with a few more puffs, we finished the hand-rolled herbal creation, and walked back outside, to a reality that had bent a bit since we departed. I felt as if I were in Muggle high school again as we returned to the fire.

The teetotaling California witches had turned in for the night, Rhiannon told us as she headed toward her tent, and had thanked Severus for the wonderful vegan feast prior to doing so. (_Vegan?_ I thought, incredulously). Severus patted the empty chair next to him and I went over agreeably and sat in it. He leaned closely to me and whispered in my ear, "My love, I was unaware that you partook in such…amusements. I would have gladly provided some of _that_ for you if I knew you wanted it." I began to giggle. Naturally, a Potions Master would have it in his private stock. I thought briefly of Severus in a tie-dyed shirt in his younger days, and was unable to stop giggling.

"Well, I don't usually, but Inanna—"

He reached over and pulled me out of my chair and onto his lap and kissed me, sighing with pleasure. "Well, I believe that there are some interesting side-effects from that herb, and I want to investigate them," he murmured, as he nibbled at my earlobe. I pressed closer against him and slid my hands into his hair, so soft, so silky, such a perfect length…his arms were so strong, and Gods, he smelled so good…

"Harrrrrumph!" said Inanna. I jumped and nearly fell onto the ground, except that Severus caught me about the waist, pressing his fingers just a bit tighter than was actually necessary. "Good night, you two, I'm turning in. Big day tomorrow." I looked at the fire, which had died down considerably. "Thanks for the goodies, Professor," she added over her shoulder, as she walked off.

Severus stood up and extinguished the remaining bit of the fire with his wand. "Shall we?" He then assembled the cauldron (which looked nearly empty at this point, I noticed with a start) and the empty picnic basket, and as we walked toward the tent, he levitated them in front of us and through the tent flap. "You don't seem affected by that…drink stuff…" I said, as I walked in an uncoordinated fashion behind him.

"That is because I formulated it specifically to not affect me," he said. "I wanted to remain alert. I told you that I do not trust Lucius Malfoy." I shuddered a bit at the unwelcome intrusion of that name into our conversation. "However, I'll be partaking of something else here, shortly."

And we repaired to the bedroom, where he partook of a liquid that not only seemed to affect his concentration, so that his attentions to me were even more thorough than usual, but also affected his libido—he did not lose his erection, even though he had what seemed like three (or maybe four; memories of that night are pleasant, but vague) orgasms. It was an incomparable evening.

The next morning dawned, but as usual, I didn't notice it. The first thing I did notice was Severus standing next to the bed, holding a tray with breakfast items on it, wearing his grey Slytherin robe. He sat down on the bed and we ate and drank. I consumed copious amounts of coffee.

"Do you think the others would like some of this?" he asked. He was being so overly solicitous of my friends that I was beginning to get suspicious. Dumbledore must have given him quite a talking-to.

"Oh, I'm sure. Inanna told me yesterday that all she brought with her was warm tonic and trail mix."

"Great Mithras. I don't even want to know what any of that is. Let's take this to them, then." He moved a nightshirt and robe over toward me, as well as some slippers. I paused before tying up the robe. "Uh…we're matching."

"As you would say, my dear…_and, your point being…_?"

We stepped through the tent flap. It was obviously still rather early. The three Californians were up by the unlit fire, and Rhiannon was slowly making her way over to it, as well. She called to us, "Good morning! Come on over!" The Californians smiled and waved. Despite his oft-aired views on what I referred to as "fluffy-bunny" witches, Severus seemed to have charmed my West Coast acquaintances.

"Where's Inanna?" I asked.

"Oh, please. Like she's ever gotten up before 10 in her life," said Rhiannon, who, this morning, was wearing a "Born Again Pagan" t-shirt emblazoned with a large pentacle. She grabbed a cinnamon bun off the tray that Severus proffered her, as well as a cup of pumpkin juice.

"Thank you, Severus." They were on a first-name basis, now? "Hey, this is great," she said, as she sipped at the juice. "This must be that stuff that Rowan keeps telling me about. Is there more?" she asked me.

"Accio, er…granola?" I heard behind me, and began to laugh. Severus stepped up behind me and whispered, "That horrid stuff looks like wood chips! Do you think it is what she really wanted?"

The Californian was munching happily. "Yep," I answered. He waved his wand at the fire and started it. "This anti-Muggle security is business is so much stuff and nonsense," he groused. "The Ministry could have put more effective charms around the area if they had more sense. Hmph. Such foolish-wand waving hardly requires any effort…"

"But, they were nice enough to give you the tickets, though."

"Only after my complete and utter humiliation at the hands of Fudge and…that…." This last part was said only to me, and I knew what was coming.

"Severus, we've talked about this," I whispered to him, "and we can discuss it again, _later_, in private…"

The Californians, though, had heard part of the conversation.

"You got tickets through your Ministry of Magic?" said Californian #1 (I had trouble remembering their names. She might have been Amber, I think.) "Cool! Do you, like, work there or something?" Hadn't she been the one talking with him last night? What had been in that non-alcoholic punch, anyway?

"No, Madam, I work at Hogwarts School," Severus said, with an extremely forced smile.

"Oh, I just looooooove your accent," she continued. Ugh, I thought. "Ya know, I've read about that place in _Magickal People_! That's where Harry Potter goes to school," she said, excitedly, nudging Californian #2 (Starshine, possibly, or maybe Sunshine).

"Cooooooooooooool!" said Sunshine (had to be; she was blonde).

"The kid who kicked the Dark Lord's ass?" said Crystalfeather (Californian #3), looking interested. (_Oh GODS_, thought I. _No. Please stop_.)

"Er…how about some more food, you guys?" I asked, weakly, looking at the empty platter and hoping to change the subject. Severus had said nothing so far, but I could feel his brooding presence behind me.

"Yes, pardon us," he said, abruptly grabbing my arm and pulling me, as well as the floating platter, away. In the tent, he exploded.

"IS THERE NO PLACE I CAN GO TO BE FREE OF THAT BOY! No matter WHAT I do, I must hear about him! Why, oh, why, did I not take that job at Durmstrang that came available five years ago?" He paced back and forth.

"Because you wouldn't have met me, for one?" I pointed out.

He waved his wand absently at the empty platter, which filled with…well, one half of it appeared to be breakfast items, and the other half appeared to be very nasty potions ingredients.

"Uh, Severus…maybe the Californians will think this is sushi, but I'm fairly sure they're vegetarians," I said, pointing at the platter. One of the tentacles on it moved.

"Sorry," he said, waving his wand again. "Would you take this out there, Rowan, I need a moment by myself." He turned toward the fireplace, still fuming. I saw a bottle of brandy and a glass sail through the air toward him.

I levitated the tray outside. Before offering its contents to everyone, I surreptitiously flicked off a slimy nodule that clung to its side. "Yuck."

In a few minutes, Severus returned to the circle of chairs around the fire with us, but he didn't seem happy. Not that he ever really did, of course. He merely brooded, and ate, and looked glumly around. Nobody spoke to him, either. After a few minutes had passed, he stood up again and said, "Let's go in," and strode toward the tent without looking back. I ran after him.

"Huh?" I was still a bit groggy from the previous night.

"I said, let's go in!" He was already ducking under the tent flap. In his chambers, I looked at him quizzically.

"Did you not see them?" he asked.

"See who?" I sat down on the couch.

"Those…blasted Gryffindors! Heading toward us! That Weasley, and that know-it-all, Miss Granger, and…and…."

"Oh no, let me guess." Had the Californians somehow summoned him?

"He is everywhere! Albus told me that he had him stashed safely away with those damned Muggles and that crazy old Squib, but he's _here_…" He sat on the couch and put his head in his hands.

"Look, there are lots of people here and we may not run into him again."

"I certainly plan not to. Accio!" and an Invisibility Cloak flew into his hand.

"Oh, come on, Severus, you've been looking forward to this…"

"I shall still be able to see the match." He looked like a petulant child.

"Honestly!"

"My dear, let us take a bath, so that I might relax," he said, standing up and extending his hand to me. He led me into the bathroom, and, once there, he stood behind me and slipped my robe off my shoulders. "Rowan, there are many things I have not yet told you," as he kissed my neck. "Many complicated things," and he slipped the nightshirt over my head, and continued kissing me. "Matters are going to get much worse before very long, I am afraid." He snapped his fingers, removing his own clothes, and helped me into the bath. "We must formulate a different arrangement."

"What do you mean?" I popped a large soap bubble that had landed on the end of my left nipple. "I just moved here! An arrangement for what?"

"An arrangement for us," he answered, as he summoned a bottle of what appeared to be mead and two glasses, and then stepped into the bath with me. "Things will be getting dangerous in Britain again. Most likely, however, Hogwarts and its immediate vicinity will remain secure. I want you to move to Hogsmeade."

"But….my job…and…." he had begun washing my back, and I leaned into his embrace.

"I know that you enjoy living in London. But Hogsmeade is closer to me, and you will be safer. If need be, you can get to the school quite rapidly, and as long as Albus is Headmaster it should be the safest place…for anyone." He reached back and took a long sip of mead.

"What do you mean, safe?" I said, accepting the glass of mead that he handed me, and taking a short drink from it. I then picked up the shampoo bottle.

He held up his left arm. The Dark Mark seemed darker than it had ever been since I had first seen it. "It has been bothering me for a while now. And Lucius and Macnair said theirs had been bothering them yesterday, as well. Oh…ahhhhh….please, Rowan, do not do that, yet…I must tell you—this is important!" After I had finished his hair, I had slid my hands down his body, and my fingers had begun to tease his growing hardness. "Mmmmm….do stop, will you?"

I really wasn't enjoying this conversation, but he had never told me to stop in the midst of erotic play. "We can continue that shortly, woman! You must move. If the Dark Lord returns…"

I gasped.

He sighed. "I have suspected and awaited his return for years, as have many others. And this—" he waved his arm at me, "confirms it. He will be looking for me. And if…well, if things do not work out to his liking, he may—well, he may look for you, as well."

"What?!" I hadn't even considered such a thing. "Why would he look for me? I don't want to have anything to do with him! Tell him I'm not interested! Tell him I, uh, gave at the office!"

"He is no joke, Rowan. You do not want to ever confront him." He ducked his head under the water to wash off the shampoo. I shuddered.

"As I promised you before, I will protect you, Rowan. But you must move. I have made inquiries and there is a shop for rent in Hogsmeade. Ambrosius would love to expand, and it would be convenient for me as well as for my students to have a fully-stocked Apothecary so close to the school—although doubtless those dunderheads will not appreciate it in the least."

"Well, congratulations. You've figured out my life for me completely," I said, wryly. "Again."

"Rowan! You must understand that this is all for your safety's sake. He can kill me in a second, and he will, unless I can convince him that I have remained loyal to him."

"What! What do you mean? No…" Were Inanna's suspicions correct? Had we been living a lie for two years?

"And if he kills me, Rowan, he will then kill you. Or worse." He could not meet my eyes. "I am _not_ loyal to the Dark Lord, Rowan, I would hope that you understand that much by now. However, Albus may want me to…resume my former duties."

"Oh…my…Gods….No, Severus! How can this be?" The bathwater seemed cold and clammy against my skin.

"You American wizards can be so naïve. No threat ever seems to touch your shores, does it? Did you not understand all that I have told you? About what this Mark means? About what I did when I was a Death Eater? He asked for our loyalty—for our souls, Rowan."

I knew all this and more, of course…not only had I heard it from him, but I'd read about it, long before I ever even came to England. But I had thought and assumed that all of it was past, that he'd told me the stories in order to expiate his guilt. None of it had seemed real.

"Let us discuss this further in the other room. You are getting chilled," he said, helping me out of the bath, drying me off, and putting me back into the robe. He put on his robe and we walked into the bedroom and sat together on the bed. He took my hands in his.

"My love—move to Hogsmeade. Live there as my wife. I am imploring you. If my life ends suddenly, I want it to do so after I have been able to achieve at least some happiness, however brief."

"Slow down a minute, Severus, what was that you just said—before the happiness part?" Had he said "wife"?

"Oh Gods. I am making a dreadful mess of all this. I meant to—"

"Ask me something first, perhaps? No biggie, what girl _wouldn't_ be swayed by all that super-romantic Death Eater stuff?" I giggled in a completely inappropriate way, but I couldn't help myself.

"Rowan. This is hardly a laughing matter."

"What, your proposal or my smart-assed nature?" I replied.

"Woman, you—" He stood up and reached into the pocket of his robe. "Do let me finish my sentence for once, Rowan. For a minute, at least. Will you or won't you?" He knelt and held out a ring. It was white gold and in the shape of an Ouroborus, a snake with its tail in its mouth that was a symbol of eternity. Eternity. Forever. A really long time. I had trouble conceiving of such an amount of time. I stared at the ring.

"This is uncomfortable enough as it is. Rowan, do you have nothing to say?" His voice quavered a bit.

"You told me to let you finish your sentence." I said.

"I have. Kindly favor me with an answer."

"Do I have to change my name?" I looked down at him. I didn't think I had ever seen him kneel before.

"That is hardly an answer, woman!" His eyes flashed.


	5. Chapter 5 – The Dark Parade

**DARK REDEMPTION**

**Chapter 5 – The Dark Parade**

"Well? Do I?" I realized I was trying to put him off. From the way he was looking at me, I could judge that I wouldn't be able to for long. I had some other questions, too—one in particular, concerning the "obey" phrase in the traditional wedding ceremony, but I wasn't even going to ask that. I already knew the answer, anyhow.

"I would prefer you to do so, but it is not an absolute requirement. Do you have some sort of problem with my name, as well? I don't recall reading that in your journal, next to all those adolescent comments about my hair." That journal entry I'd written about 'the hot professor' seemed as if it were a relic from a former life. I blushed. "Unless you were planning to change your first name to something dreadful like those Californians, in which case I rescind my offer," he smirked.

Great. Mrs. Snape. Now I was going to sound as if I belonged on a Monty Python sketch. I decided not to keep Severus on his knees any longer. I didn't really get any satisfaction from seeing him there.

"Yes," I said.

"Do be specific, woman, yes, what?" he asked, the smirk remaining on his face.

"Yes. I accept your proposal," I mumbled.

"I would like for the ceremony to occur as soon as possible," he replied, standing up, reaching for my hand, and gently placing the ring on my finger. "Albus can do it."

"I'd prefer that it be a handfasting. Would it be possible for Rhiannon to preside along with him?" I asked. He sat down on the bed beside me, again.

"Yes, of course it would, Rowan, although you do understand that I shall never join you in any further religious pursuits?" _After two years, you'd think I'd have noticed that,_ I thought, snarkily, but I merely replied, "I understand."

"Rather convenient, that Rhiannon is here," he continued. "I shall talk to her after the match. And I thought perhaps you would want to visit Ireland for a while before my term starts. He pulled me close to him.

"Either would be fine." I didn't see Severus as the honeymoon in Vegas type, but I was relieved that we'd be following tradition, at least in a small way.

"And perhaps you and your friends would like to visit Diagon Alley to see about some proper clothes for you," he murmured, while kissing my neck. "I will not go through with this if you wear anything like that appalling outfit that you had on yesterday."

I giggled. "I promise, as long as you promise that you won't change my hat to snakes today at the match."

"Hmm. You drive a hard bargain, woman," he sighed, as his hands slid under my bathrobe. "Now I shall show you something else that is rather hard at this point—" and after that, further talk was curtailed as we made up for the time we had lost during the depressing bathtub conversation.

* * *

Afterwards, we dressed hurriedly and stepped out of the tent, this time remembering our sunglasses. Everyone was milling around the campsite; they were clearly waiting for us, as we did, after all, have the tickets.

"It's just about time to go, Rowan! What on earth were you two doing in there for so long—oh, never mind…" Inanna's strident voice slowed as Severus gave her a look and a raised eyebrow.

"Inanna, I should think that you would be well acquainted with at least the spirit of what we were _doing in there_, if not the specific mechanical details," replied Severus, as he began handing round the tickets to everyone, beginning with Inanna. "Here you are."

"Oh, you are just a hoot, Prof-Man," she said, taking her ticket and examining it.

I looked around at the rest of our companions. Everyone had clearly chosen to root for Ireland. Rhiannon had on a large green caftan with white shamrocks on it. I was suddenly reminded of something.

"Hey, Severus," I asked. "Where's my hat? You promised…"

"Oh, that bloody thing," he replied, "I was rather hoping you'd forget about it." He waved his wand, and sighed, in a resigned manner, "Accio." The bowler came whizzing out of the tent and I reached up and plucked it out of the air. It was completely snake-free. I smiled.

Inanna was looking at me—no, at my hand. Shit.

"See, all fixed!" I told her as I jammed the hat on my head. "Ready to go!"

"Is there something you two aren't TELLING US, ROWAN, MY DEAR…OLD…FRIEND?" snarled Inanna, advancing on Severus and I like a hungry, green-maned lioness.

"Huh?" I said, playing dumb. "Oh. Yeah. About the tickets…these seats are a bit low, and in Quidditch, of course, the higher seats are the best, but they'll h—"

"I DON'T MEAN THE SEATS, CHICKIE!" She was screaming at this point. I noticed that she was wearing an Ireland Quidditch shirt and her boulder-like amber necklace. The Californians were all wearing vague shades of green (in tie-dye and paisley patterns), and were staring at Inanna quizzically. They resembled a herd of confused Venusians.

"Er—you wanted to know about the Bulgarian team?" I was still attempting to play dumb.

"NOOOOO! I don't give a rat's ass about them-we're going to beat the crap out of them, anyway," she began. She must have been hanging out with the Quidditch Grrrls today, I thought. "WHAT is that on your left hand? You WEREN'T wearing it yesterday." At that, she tried to grab my hand. I stuck it behind my back. Right. I had sold her my store. She was a jewelry salesperson, and she noticed such things.

I looked around for help. Severus was furtively and hurriedly donning the Invisibility Cloak, which I presumed he'd borrowed from Dumbledore. Rhiannon and the Californians, clutching their tickets, were attempting to make a break for it.

"NOT SO FAST WITH THE DISAPPEARING ACT, DOCTOR SCIENCE! Maybe you can explain?" continued Inanna, spotting the halfway-cloaked Severus (which was a weird sight—even weirder than normal for him). "Y'all went in the tent and Rowan had no ring. She came out WITH one. Are you going to tell us what's going on, or not?" She stood with her hands on her hips.

"Er—isn't it time to go, Inanna?" I interjected, weakly. Crowds were heading toward the stadium past our campsite even as I spoke.

"Inanna," began Severus in the voice that I had heard him use in class (which was even more impressive considering that it came from his disembodied head), "You have figured it out. Yes, I asked Rowan for her hand, and she has accepted. Let us go to the match now; we shall discuss it later." The back of his head disappeared as he began to pull the cloak up.

Inanna walked over and hugged at the air around him, and Severus looked uncomfortable.

"You have stepped on my foot, Inanna," he said.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hassle you there, Sev." He looked up at the sky and began muttering under his breath. I hoped that meant he was counting to ten or something. "I'm happy for you! Why didn't you say anything?"

He merely grunted, and the rest of his head disappeared under the cloak. I walked over and took her aside as the rest of the group, figuring that the storm had passed, began walking to the stadium, led by Rhiannon. We followed them at a short distance so that I could speak to her privately.

"Look. It's a long story, Inanna. We can celebrate later. There's some…well, some weird stuff happening, OK?" I began.

"Not between you two, I hope?" She looked concerned.

"No…between him and er…an old boss of his. And you'd better not call him Sev. I've never even been gutsy enough to call him that." I giggled at the thought.

"Where'd he go, anyway?" said Inanna, looking around.

I felt a hand on my back. "Right here," he said. "And Rowan is correct. Do not ever call me that again," but he chuckled at that last.

"That is so weird, Severus," replied Inanna, extending his name through every possible syllable. "What's up with the cloaking device? Hiding from the Klingons?"

"The whom?" he asked. I looked down and observed his bootprints in the grass.

"Don't mind Inanna," I said, to Severus' general direction. "They only let her out on weekends, or if she accidentally chews through her leather straps. Oh jeez…." My voice drifted off as I noted that we were passing the camp where, evidently, Severus had sent the errant Quidditch Grrrrl yesterday. "Um, isn't that Draco Malfoy over there? And, I suppose those must be his parents. And who's that lumberjack-looking guy lurking near them?" I added this last with a little involuntarily shiver, as the large man looked over, directly at me.

"Keep it down, Rowan!" whispered Severus, right in my ear. "Yes. Those are indeed the Malfoys. And the other gentleman is Macnair. I believe I mentioned that their camp was over here yesterday. I have no wish for them to take note of you, so if you wouldn't mind moving along as fast as you can..." I pulled my Ireland bowler down over my forehead as far as it would go, adjusted my sunglasses, and attempted to look extremely casual.

Inanna, however, had overheard us. "Wow, nice kilt on that guy! And damn, those other people look like they're headed for a polo match!" she blurted. I hoped that voices didn't carry well out here. "Where the fuck do you all get these names," she continued, whispering in my ear. "Can you shed some light on this phenomenon—" she prodded my arm, "Future MRS. SNAPE?"

"SHHHHHHHHH!" I said, whispering back to her. "Dammit, shut up, MOONWOMON, like _you_ have room to talk? I am going to put a floggin' on your noggin!" I said this last sentence loudly, in a very-poorly-executed Irish accent (which I hoped was not overheard by any actual Irish folks), hoping to disguise myself as J. Random Irish Quidditch Fan. This tactic was only partially successful. The three Malfoys promptly did their well-bred best to ignore our shenanigans, by turning toward their tent. However, the big guy in the kilt was still watching us. Crap. I decided to take more drastic action, so I jumped at her, she ran, and I chased. I heard the eerie sound of the Invisibility Cloak swishing along behind me.

"Can you slow down, woman!" hissed Severus.

"OI!" It was the two leather-jacketed Quidditch Grrls, without Bell, who was presumably hanging around the camp we had just passed, which was just fine with me. Inanna waved her ticket at the taller of the two, who examined it. "Looks like you're in the same section as we are," so they joined our group, and we continued on toward the monolithic stadium.

Even Inanna, jaded as she tended to be, admitted that the magical stadium was impressive; we stopped in front of the gates to have a look at the souvenirs.

Inanna, with a joyful cry of "Vendors' Row!", immediately bought a badge that yelled "TROY! MULLET! MORAN!" from its shamrocked center.

"Gods, will I have to listen to that bloody thing for the entire match?" groused Severus, into my ear. "Here. Get yourself some of those Omnioculars, you will enjoy them." A small stack of Galleons appeared near my hand. "Oh, get some for Inanna and Rhiannon as well," he sighed, and another stack of Galleons appeared. "Never mind about those damned Californians. Perhaps there's a brain vendor about…"

I bought the Omnioculars and handed them around.

"Cool!" exclaimed Inanna. "Thanks, Mrs. Snape!" she added flippantly, running toward the Quidditch Grrls, who were looking anxiously up at the stadium, awaiting the start of the game.

"Dammit!" I decided not to try catching up with her, and plodded along behind the rest of the party.

"Mrs. Snape, eh?" said Severus, into my ear, when the others had gotten a bit ahead of me. "I do rather like the sound of that…"

"Don't YOU start!" I hissed, causing several teenaged wizards to look at me strangely. I stopped again, this time to buy some programs, and handed them out to our group as we met by the entrance. Inanna was playing with her Omnioculars, focusing on a statuesque blonde who was just entering the stadium.

"Look, I can make that babe back up—think I can get her over here?" She and the Quidditch Grrrls guffawed. They blocked Severus from sight for long enough for him to shed the robe, tender his ticket, and enter the stadium. They were also quite helpful in blocking people from sitting in what looked to them like an empty seat ("Shite!")

The match was tremendously exciting. We had a lot of fun with the Omnioculars, and I was pleased with the Quidditch Grrrls' additional, expert commentary. I loved the leprechauns, also, although being of Irish extraction, I wasn't fooled by their gold.

Later in the match, Severus nudged me as the Irish mascots made a rude sign over the field at the Bulgarian mascots (who Inanna and the Grrls drooled at, but Severus didn't seem to notice, thank Goddess). "Now I know where you get it. There must be one of those lurking about in your family tree," he whispered.

"Ha, ha, ha," I mouthed at him, amusedly.

After the match, Inanna decided to, not surprisingly, head back to the Quidditch Grrrls' camp. Rhiannon, the Californians, the still-cloaked Severus, and I went back to our camp. He uncloaked, ducked into the tent, and produced yet another cauldron of fizzy purple stuff, which he levitated toward Rhiannon.

"Oy. We might as well enjoy ourselves," said Rhiannon. "I doubt those folks will be turning in any time soon." Loud partying noises were echoing around us from the Irish supporters' area.

So we set up the cauldron and ringed our chairs around it. I sat in Severus' lap (at his request). Amber, the Californian, told some interesting and humorous ghost stories, and Sunshine, the second Californian, led all of us (once we had drunk enough fizzy stuff) in some rousing rounds of bawdy pub songs. "I used to work at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire," she told us. Even Severus seemed to enjoy the songs—I almost thought I heard him join in on some of them. We had just given up on the last verse of "The Moose Song" when he murmured in my ear, "Do stop that, Rowan, you are pinching me."

"Stop what, I'm not—"

He was lifting his arm out from behind me. His left arm. The one with the—

"NO! NO!" I yelled; at the same time I did this I heard an echo of my voice, or so I thought…but it continued after I closed my mouth, and I realized that it was a prolonged scream.

Severus lifted me to the ground and stood up quickly. He looked around our group with inquiring eyes.

"I apologize for having to ask this, but are any of you lot…er, well, Muggle-born?"

I knew that Rhiannon was—she gave a look toward Severus that I couldn't interpret. Amber tentatively raised her hand. Even outside the classroom, Severus commanded that sort of respect.

"You will excuse me." He withdrew his wand from the inner pocket of his jacket, and in one dexterous movement had packed all of the tents up, except for ours. Despite his oft-stated derision of "foolish wand-waving," he was actually very good at it.

We stood there, stunned (and perhaps a bit stoned) in a ring. He had packed the chairs as well. We stared at the cauldron.

"Get in our tent, NOW," he said, in a low voice. The Californians ran toward the open tent flap, with the cauldron drifting eerily behind them. Boy, were they in for a big surprise.

"Rhiannon, go on, get in the tent, if you will," he continued, this time in a slightly more polite tone, while gesturing at it.

"I'm not going in there until I find Inanna," she said, standing with her hands on her hips, every inch the High Priestess.

"I shall find Inanna." He turned to me. "Is she…"

"Oh yes. 100 percent Muggle-born." I told him.

"Please go to the tent, Rhiannon," he said again. I wasn't sure if I had ever heard him say the word "please" before, except in other contexts. "Rowan, wait a moment, will you?" Rhiannon turned and headed toward the tent, the sparkling "Salem Witches' Institute" banner trailing through the air behind her, like a sad reminder of a forgotten party. Severus reached for my arm and pointed over in the distance, toward the area where we had passed the Malfoys' tent, earlier that day, and from where the sounds seemed to be issuing.

"Oh fuck, I thought so," I said.

"Come on," said Severus, ducking into the tent and pulling me behind him. In the tent, the Californians and Rhiannon stood in a huddled mass in the center of Severus' main chamber, the cauldron and banner sitting next to them in a haphazard heap. They looked very confused.

"No time to explain!" I said to them, as Severus pulled me into his supply closet. He said "Lumos!" to ignite the torches on the wall, as he began rummaging through a large old chest, which looked as if it came from the Medieval era. "Rowan," he began, as he lifted some objects that I couldn't see from the chest, "Please swear to me that you will not say a word about what you are going to see me do." I looked at him curiously.

"I swear."

The objects turned out to be a black robe with an extremely long hood and a skull-like mask. He didn't need to explain them to me. As he put on the robe, I shivered. It was not all that different from what he normally wore, but it looked somehow…wrong. He did not pull up the hood. He strode into the main chambers and approached my frightened friends. I saw Rhiannon's eyes widen at his attire and the mask in his hands. Clearly, she recognized them, as well.

"Ladies, please seat yourselves here, and try to remain calm. We shall be back shortly." What does he mean, "we," I thought. He waved his wand at the cauldron, refilling it, and at the fireplace, where a roaring fire immediately started. His voice was slightly awkward with the next phrase, which was very unfamiliar to him. "Please…make yourselves at home. The facilities are through that door—"he gestured toward his bedroom. Meanwhile, he was heading toward the exit, and urging me there. He handed me the Invisibility Cloak. As we stepped through the door, and then through the tent flap, he donned the mask, and I did not even want to look at him. He waved his wand and the tent became a flat, circular rock, with the letter "S" emblazoned on it, and then he turned to me.

I instantly recoiled at the horrid visage of the featureless mask, but things got much worse. He waved his wand at the robe, and the hood rose up, tall in the air. My jaw dropped. He paid no attention to me as he growled, "Stay close to me. If you see Inanna, grab her. And above all, do NOT talk and do NOT ask questions." He then jogged off in the direction of the noises, which was the absolutely last place that I wanted to go, but I followed him nonetheless, intent on locating Inanna. I noticed, as I caught up with him, that he had placed his serpent pendant on the outside of his robes. I made a mental note to ask him about that later, as I had no desire to wear any object that was related to such goings-on. Perhaps he just meant for the others to recognize him, but it still bothered me.

We reached the area where I had seen the Malfoys earlier. There was a large group of robed, masked figures, most of whom were carrying torches, all of whom had their wands out. Severus walked right up to them. I followed, wishing that I could make the imprints of my feet invisible as well.

"Lucius!" he yelled.

One of the figures turned. "Well, well," he said. "Come to join the festivities, Severus? Where were you earlier? We missed you at the match."

"Unavoidably detained."

"Never mind that, you're just in time for the fun to begin," drawled the dark figure.

I was more scared than I had ever been in my life. I had no idea that so many Death Eaters had survived and were still at large. Speaking of large, one of the dark figures seemed to be staring directly at me, and I was sure it was the lumberjack-looking man that I had seen earlier. I stood very still and tried to breathe quietly.

"Yes, Lucius, I saw a Muggle earlier that I'd like to play with tonight," answered Severus, in a voice unlike any that I had heard from him before. It was like something out of a B-grade Muggle horror movie. Come to think of it, this entire scenario seemed to be lifted from one, but I had no desire to laugh at this point.

"Certainly, certainly," replied Lucius. (_And what an appropriate name that is for him_, I thought). "We have more than enough to keep us busy here." He pointed to the rest of the group. They were pointing their wands at that nice Muggle campsite manager we had met yesterday, and what had to be his wife and kids. They were standing in a confused huddle, looking as if they were deer caught in a large, oppressive headlight. As I watched in horror, the Death Eaters moved their wands as one and propelled all of them into the air, spinning them around like tops. This was clearly the source of some of the screams.

"Well, Severus, let's go and find your Muggle, which way was she?" asked Lucius. At his signal, the entire group of necrophages began to move as one, the family still suspended in the air above them. Pandemonium issued in the wake of the lugubrious parade. More screams were heard, tents were catching on fire, and people were running everywhere to attempt to get away from the black-cloaked group.

I wrenched my eyes from the twisting and turning airborne Muggles, and scanned the area for the Quidditch Grrls' tent. Everything seemed different in the dark, but at last I spotted it, and nudged Severus. He walked over to Malfoy and said, "This is where I leave you, Lucius."

"Oh no," said Lucius, "We get to watch, don't we? Just like the old days, Severus. At least a little," he added. Oh Gods.

The crowd surged toward the left. I thought I caught a glimpse of Inanna's leather jacket.


	6. Chapter 6 – Mead and Sympathy

**DARK REDEMPTION**

**Chapter 6 – Mead and Sympathy**

Severus stood in front of the black-garbed crowd, as if to dissuade them from their path. For an uncomfortable moment, nobody moved (except for the still-spinning Muggles).

"No, Lucius. I claimed her, and you agreed. This one is mine, and you do _not_ get to watch," he growled.

There was a pause, during which I shifted nervously from foot to foot, attempting to do so quietly, as I was very sure that I was being watched, even in my invisible state.

"Very well, Severus," sighed Lucius, from under his mask. As he turned, the crowd (and the unfortunate floating Muggles) followed him. Clearly some sort of pissing contest had just occurred, and Severus had thankfully won it. After they moved along, we approached the Quidditch Grrrls' tent (which looked trampled). Inanna stood in front of it, in her leather jacket, as I had noticed before. Severus started to head directly for her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted one of the Grrrls clambering from underneath the wreckage of the tent. She was also in a leather jacket, and held a Beater stick in her hand. _Why isn't she using a wand_? I wondered. I quickly realized why, as she swung the heavy stick directly towards Severus' head. He obviously didn't see her. I reached for my wand, poked it out from under the Invisibility Cloak, and yelled "Expelliarmus!" The Beater stick flew out of the Grrl's hand and landed on the hapless tent (knocking over another stake), and she was knocked to the ground. As she was falling, I heard Severus yelling "Petrificus Totalus!" at her, so she landed in sort of an awkward position. I felt bad about this, as she was on our side, after all.

Inanna had no idea what was going on and was backing away from Severus.

I ran up to him and nudged him. "She doesn't know it's you!" I said, in a quiet voice, lest any stray Death Eaters hear us. I moved the cloak aside so that Inanna could see my face, and was happy to see her expression turn immediately from terror to relief.

"Shhh. Don't say anything. It's OK. Just go with him," I whispered at her, and re-cloaked myself, not a moment too soon. Severus grabbed Inanna's arm and had just turned toward the direction of our campsite when a most unwelcome sight met my invisible self.

Draco Malfoy was ambling slowly up to us, a smirk on his face. Come to think of it, I could not recall seeing him with any other facial expression. _Oh Gods, not that annoying little prick_, I thought. _Why couldn't he go away with his father? Maybe they didn't make Death Eater masks in brat sizes._

Severus stopped and turned toward Draco, and pulled Inanna close to him (presumably for effect). "Draco. Go and find your friends. Leave us now."

"But, Professor," whined Draco. At this, Inanna's eyes widened. "Father said I could watch you play with the Mudblood!" he continued. Inanna's jaw dropped so far open that I could see the gleam of her tongue piercing even in the scant light of the few torches and fires scattered around the campsite.

"NO, Draco!" roared Severus. "I said, go away NOW. Do not follow me again. Obliviate!" At this last, young Malfoy turned and walked blankly away toward a nearby stand of trees. I wondered if the Memory Charm was the only one he had used.

We didn't stick around long to see if any other Junior Death Eaters were hoping for a merit badge demonstration. Severus very quickly removed his hood and mask, released the Quidditch Grrl from the Full Body-Bind, ensured that she had not been harmed, and helped her set her trampled tent up again with a few waves of his wand. I divested myself of the Invisibility Cloak, Severus stowed it away in a pocket of his robe, and the three of us ran back in the direction of our campsite.

It was, however, rather difficult to find. Many tents had been trampled, and I didn't see anything that looked familiar. Inanna stopped and began gaping up at the sky. Severus put a hand behind her to try and keep her moving, but she wouldn't budge...she just pointed upwards and began to tremble. A giant green-glowing skull with a snake exiting its mouth was displayed in the air above the campground. The Dark Mark. We heard more screams.

"Oh, bugger all," muttered Severus, and grabbed my arm. Without another word, he Disapparated all of us to our barren campsite; I hated Disapparation but I was in no mood to whine about it at that point. We stood in a circle around the flat stone and stared at our surroundings. The RIANON sign was trampled on the ground and spattered with mud. Muttering angrily to himself, Severus waved his wand and made the tent reappear. After we had all ducked in under the flap, he muttered another charm. I was willing to bet that the flat rock was the only thing remaining in our campsite, and perhaps even it had been Transfigured.

We stood in the hallway and did not enter the main chamber until Severus removed his long black robe. After he did, Inanna looked at both of us.

"You…you saved my life out there, I think…"

"Severus did, Inanna. I really had nothing to do with it." I said.

"Thank you," she whispered, and hugged him.

"Think nothing of it, Inanna," he began, but she looked up at him and continued. "You know, when I was a little girl growing up in Waycross, Georgia, I had a snake for a pet. His name was Slinky. I reckon he would have liked you. You're all right by me, Severus." To his credit, he looked slightly less uncomfortable at the hug than he had earlier that day, and I thought I even saw him give a small smile at Inanna's reptilian revelation.

After she had released him, he looked at both of us. "I doubt they would have killed you, but one never knows. The Mark was displayed, after all. Those stinking cowards…" His eyes flashed with anger. "Wait here with your friends, if you would. I have to go and find Albus. I shall be back as soon as I can." He drew me aside and kissed me. "You were very brave tonight, my love. I shall explain everything to you later." He abruptly turned, walked briefly into the doorway of the main chamber, then turned, walked back past us, and swept away down the corridor, presumably toward the school.

In Severus' main chamber, Rhiannon, Inanna and the Californians were in the midst of a very teary group hug. They turned as I walked in, and made a space for me.

"Where ARE we?" asked Amber.

"This is Hogwarts, isn't it, Rowan?" said Rhiannon, with an appraising look in her eye as she stared around the room.

Sunshine and Crystalfeather looked as if they had been on a really bad acid trip for a few months. "Will we—be able to get home?" one of them asked.

I stepped out of the circle of sisterhood and held up my hands. In my best pedagogical voice, I began, "Folks. To answer your questions, maybe not in order…Yes. These are Severus' rooms at Hogwarts. And as far as I know, you will be able to get home. There was a, errr, a slight disturbance outside (Inanna raised her eyebrows at this), and it was, well, pretty much like a Muggle soccer riot. " Rhiannon glared at me. I realized that my audience for this talk consisted solely of the Californians. "OK, well, maybe not exactly. Never mind about that. Anyway, if we just, um, hang out here for a while, we should be able to get back to the campground in a bit. OK?"

"This is…like, a totally cool room," said Amber. "Do all the professors have rooms this cool?" I bit back a snarky reply, one worthy of the room's owner, and looked over at the fireplace. In front of it was a small, wheeled cart that I hadn't previously noted. It contained a food tray. Severus managed to amaze me even when he was not in evidence. I summoned the cart with my wand. "It looks like he left some food for us." To my amazement, there was vegetarian sushi on a platter, as well as some very British-looking sandwiches (the same ones that we regularly consumed). On the lower level of the tray, there rested a teapot, some teacups, wine glasses, and—_oh, thank you, Severus_, I thought to myself—a beautiful golden bottle of oak-matured mead.

"Rowan, where did the Professor go?" asked Rhiannon. Great. We're back to "the Professor" again, I thought grimly. As if he wanted to wear that stupid outfit. He only did it to find Inanna. Shit.

"I believe he went to speak to Headmaster Dumbledore," I said, in the haughty tones of my adopted homeland. Two could play at the Alpha Witch Bitch game; Rhiannon had been the one who had taught me, after all.

"Good," said Rhiannon. She reached for a sandwich with a shy smile, apparently pleased with my answer. Amber, Sunshine, and Crystalfeather were loading up on sushi, marveling at its freshness. Inanna stood by the fire, staring up at the Floo powder and the brass serpent statue on the mantel. I walked over and put my arm around her.

"Rowan," she began. "Remember when I said I was going to tell you something the other day, when we were in my tent, and then I said that I'd better have Rhiannon tell you?"

"Yes," I answered warily. I had been hoping that the happy herb we had been consuming at the time would have caused her to forget that conversation. Clearly, it had not.

"Well—what just happened tonight is sort of related to that," she continued.

"Hold on a second," I said. I Summoned the bottle of mead, two glasses, and two sandwiches on a plate. "I can tell this is going to take a while. As Rhiannon would say, eat, bubbeleh." We sat on the couch closest to the fire, the one which Severus and I had shared on so many occasions, mostly happy ones. This, however, was not going to be a happy talk. Somehow, I knew what she was going to say, in not so many words. Our mental connection, forged through years of coven work, clearly still held.

As I finished my second long (and extremely pleasurable) drink of mead, Inanna began.

"Rowan, we did some research on—on Severus." I started to speak, but Inanna held up her hand. "Let me finish, please. When you left, and before you left, you seemed so…different, somehow. You were leaving your adopted magickal family, you were going away to a foreign country, and we knew nothing about the wizard who had convinced you to do all of that. And you know perfectly well that you're not the easiest person in the world to convince." She took a bite of her sandwich.

"It takes one to know one," I said, and then drank some more mead. It was already time to refill my glass. "Let me guess. This was all for my own good, and it was everyone's idea." I grimaced. My coven-even when I was thousands of miles from them, they were so doggoned predictable.

"And then, well, we got that owl from Michele, the one I told you about…" Inanna held up her glass of mead so that the flames prismed through its flickering depths. "Cool…" she muttered, then she drank, just in time for my rant to overpower her moment of cosmic consciousness.

"Shit! You all are aware that she and Bryan have hardly spoken to me since I moved here. Not an owl, not a Muggle phone call, nothing. She came and visited me in Diagon Alley a few times, and when I wouldn't listen to her complaints about my choice in men, she just stopped contacting me. Let us not forget that she and Bryan, after being in England for a year, had yet to even try and set up a coven or do any magickal work in the first place…other than gossiping with other wizards about Severus." I refilled my glass, and made a mental note to thank Severus when I saw him—the level of mead in the bottle hadn't been affected in the least by my actions.

"I told you the other night-Rhiannon and I already know all about that. Michele hasn't been contacting us, either. We've taken the appropriate steps." Inanna looked at me with a serious gaze. I knew what that meant. If Michele and Bryan ever wanted to rejoin our extended magickal family, they would now have to do so by a lengthy, formal, and fairly annoying process.

"OK. I guess you could say I'm satisfied on that score." I took a bite of my lonely-looking sandwich.

"Thought you would be, girl. Anyway. Like I said. Rhiannon, through one of her contacts, an Auror, did some research on Severus." Rhiannon's contacts were legion and legendary. She might appear to be a benevolent grandmother, but appearances, in her case, were deceiving.

"You don't have to tell me what you found out. He told me on the first night that we met." On this very same couch, I thought. History repeats itself. "It's hardly a secret _now_, anyway."

"He just keeps impressing me, you know that? He actually told you that he had been a Death Eater?" As Inanna accepted the glass of mead that I proffered her, Rhiannon walked over. She had a copy of _MOSTE POTENTE POTIONS_ in her left hand, and a sandwich in her right. I glanced up and noticed the Californians seated in a circle, apparently meditating.

"Believe me, I wasn't very thrilled about it." _And I was getting less thrilled about it with every minute._ "History lessons belong in the classroom," I added wryly.

"Look, bubbeleh," Rhiannon said, as she sat down on the couch next to us. "I finally owled Dumbledore to get his personal assurance that everything was copacetic. When he owled back, he told me that you had done the same thing. That's when I felt relieved, OK? You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I heard from that Auror friend of mine. But he's kind of a Boy Scout, anyway, so go figure."

Just at that moment, the two wizards in question entered the room. The Californians stopped chanting, and the rest of us set down our food and drink to regard them silently.


	7. Chapter 7 – Ouroborus

**DARK REDEMPTION**

**Chapter 7 – Ouroborus**

"Ladies," began Dumbledore, with a smile, "Welcome to Hogwarts. I apologize that your visit here is under less-than-pleasant circumstances. We have just been out to check on the situation, and it appears that our Ministry of Magic have things under control. Rest assured that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you will be able to return to your homes safely and promptly."

Everyone smiled back at him. Dumbledore tended to have a very comforting effect on people. Severus did not. That was probably why he was merely standing there and not adding to Albus' comments. He looked every bit as forbidding as usual.

"Now, if you'd kindly give us a few more minutes, Professor Snape and I need to have a discussion. We'll be back shortly." Both wizards left the room.

The Californians immediately returned to their sushi plate, meditative practices apparently having been abandoned for the time being. Inanna and I grabbed two more sandwiches. They were delicious. We drank more mead, also. Rhiannon sat and started to read _MOSTE POTENTE POTIONS_, but the next time I looked at her, she had fallen asleep in her chair. Inanna fell asleep not long after she finished her third sandwich. The Californians had curled up like cats in front of the fire.

I, however, was not tired. I stared at the flickering flames, hoping for some sort of answer to the myriad questions that had arisen in my head since we had arrived at the World Cup. Everything had seemed so simple for a while there. I actually liked the Diagon Alley apartment, and I enjoyed working at the Apothecary during the weeks. I'd figured that when Severus' school term started, things would settle into a rather nice routine. Was I ready to run another store? And a handfasting—was I ready for that? I examined the serpent that twined around my finger, its tail in its miniature fanged mouth. Did I really even know Severus well enough to enter into such a commitment? It was true that, over the past two years, usually after we had been intimate, he had opened up and told me some things. I learned about his childhood, which had been a morass of mental abuse. No matter what he did, it had never been good enough to please his father.

He had been a quiet, studious boy, more or less under the radar screen during his first few years at school. However, during his fifth year at school, he had fallen in with a group of never-do-well types. They epitomized the worst and most stereotypical aspects of Slytherin House, and they had rushed en masse to the Dark Lord's side after leaving school (Hogwarts did not have a formal graduation ceremony, per se). All of them, including Severus, had received the Dark Mark.

And then, after a couple of years of activities of which Severus had never given me complete details (and to my mind, that was just as well), had come that night which had been his breaking point, the night which he'd never fully explained. He returned to Hogwarts, to the Headmaster, and turned himself in. But this had all been in secret, of course; he became a valued double agent whose assistance was vital in destroying the Dark Lord's power structure. And ever since that time, he'd worked as a professor and as the Head of Slytherin, using his Death Eater connections to keep tabs on the Dark wizarding world.

However, during that time, as he had told me on our first night together, he had remained alone, with only his thoughts and memories to keep him company during the long nights after his school duties were complete. Over the years, this made him increasingly bitter, and by the time I met him, he had become the terror of the school, the one I saw when I observed his classes. To his great dismay, this persona was virtually identical to that of his father, who also could never control his anger or his callousness.

Despite Dumbledore's hopes that I would somehow influence all of this for the better, I had not even been able to make more than a perfunctory dent in Severus' sizable emotional baggage. I had merely helped him move it to a cleaner and well-lit storage space. When we were together, he was snarky and sarcastic, but he was able to express some tenderness toward me. He was still just as nasty to the students and other teachers as he ever had been, from what I could tell. And even worse, during the last school year, I had held out hopes that Remus Lupin, the recently departed Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, might have helped him exorcise some of the demons of his past. Those hopes had been dashed by the events surrounding the capture and subsequent escape of Sirius Black.

And he had just said that there was more—more than I had already been told? Gods, I was tired, I realized—I had never claimed to be a counselor or magickal social worker. Hell, I had my own problems to worry about—one of the worst of them, which I attempted never to acknowledge, was the fact that I found Severus' questionable Dark past to be…well, a bit attractive, in a dangerous way. Best not to think about that—perhaps it was easier to ponder, once again, that fateful Full Moon ceremony two years ago, the one that had resulted in my meeting Severus in the first place. The student who had written it had never graduated from the Institute; Rhiannon had said she had essentially vanished. How on earth had a simple request for a relationship engendered all of this, anyway? All I had really wanted at the time was to meet a man with whom I could perhaps have a conversation that didn't involve some sort of boring, politically-correct manifesto. I might as well be honest—what I had really wanted at the time was just to get laid.

I didn't realize I had said this part in my "out-loud voice" until I added. "Shit. I should have just bought a Hitachi Magic Wand." Inanna poked her head up at this last and said, "Wha—Rowan, are you all right?" And at that, all the frustration and anger and fear and everything else that had been welling up in me over the course of the evening caused me to burst into tears. Unfortunately, this woke everyone up, including the Californians.

"I should have just moved to California, or something," I said, between sniffles. Crystalfeather handed me a large handkerchief with what looked like a Native American pattern on it, and hugged me. "Thanks."

Amber chimed in. "Honey, California is NOT all it's cracked up to be. Like, those Information Processing wizards, who are the only ones who are single, are all way too weird for words, no matter how much gold they have in Gringotts."

Sunshine spoke up, in a remarkably eloquent voice. "Do you know if you do the wrong type of magick, you can risk causing an earthquake? Why, CAL-DOMER—"

"What?" Inanna and I interjected. Rhiannon had walked over and was about to answer, but Sunshine continued, unfazed. I think Inanna had mentioned that she was a Transfiguration teacher at one of the California magickal schools.

"Oh, sorry about that. The California Department of Magickal Environmental Regulation. We've got committees upon subcommittees of departments out there, most people can barely tell them apart sometimes. Anyway, they would have regulated this World Cup shindig right out of existence!" she exclaimed.

Amber was clearly of a one-track mind. "None of us have EVER been able to find a decent wizard to settle down with. I'd move here if it weren't for the weather. Your Professor is a sweetie, even if he is kind of…um…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced nervously at the giant Slytherin banner on the far wall. "Well, like, you know…."

"Eccentric," finished Rhiannon, loudly, and Goddess bless her for it.

"Totally," sighed Amber, who was clearly relieved.

I had stopped sniffing and was chuckling by the end of this recitation. Inanna plucked Crystalfeather's sodden handkerchief from my hand and tossed it to Sunshine, who dried it with a snap of her fingers. Who knew?

"Rowan, I would suggest that we celebrate your engagement," began Rhiannon, "But perhaps that's not the best idea right now."

"No, why not?" I said, and began handing round wineglasses. Somehow, the number had multiplied. I poured mead into all of them. Sunshine tapped the glasses that she and her friends held, presumably to remove the alcohol.

I drank my mead in one gulp, after we had all clinked our glasses together. Could someone who had made such a marvelous beverage really be all that bad at heart? I did truly love him; I knew that much. And I certainly had a powerful and abiding lust for him. It was just that I somehow realized that after this day, things would never be the same. The Dark was rising again, and we were planning to pledge our lives to each other's—but how long, exactly, were those lives going to be?

Just as I had that thought, Severus and Dumbledore returned.

"Given the situation," began Albus, "Severus has kindly offered to extend the night's hospitality to you ladies here in his rooms. Alternatively, we have accommodations for you upstairs, if you would like to have a look at the rest of the school."

"Our Portkey isn't booked until the day after tomorrow, you guys!" said Sunshine. "I don't know about you two, but I am totally psyched about seeing this place…I've heard so much about it. Hey, is your Transfiguration teacher here?"

Severus and I exchanged a glance at her comment; I couldn't even begin to imagine a possible academic conversation between Sunshine and Minerva McGonagall.

"No, I'm afraid she is away for the summer," remarked Dumbledore, with a smile.

"Our Portkey is also booked for the day after tomorrow. They must have grouped all the Americans together," began Rhiannon.

"It was the first one available," said Inanna.

"It would certainly be no problem to have you ladies stay here an additional day. In that case, why don't you come with me, and I'll show you to your rooms." Dumbledore walked toward the door and motioned the Californians, Inanna, and Rhiannon to join him. Their equipment floated in the air next to them; it was anybody's guess who was responsible for that particular charm.

After the chattering crowd had exited and we heard the sliding of stone indicating that the wards were back on the entrance to Severus' chambers, both of us let out a long sigh. Severus turned to me.

"Look," I began. "Weren't there any other extra-curricular activities that you could have joined when you were here at school, besides the Death Eater Scouts?"

"Rowan." He pulled me into his arms. "I need a Translating Spell to make sense of many of your pronouncements. You do know that, do you not? However, there are many more urgent needs that should be satisfied at the moment. Shall we go to the bath?"

"Great minds think alike," I said, following him into the bathroom. We stepped into the giant tub silently. It was filled with scented foam, and was warm and relieving. I noticed that the mead and two glasses had made their way into the bathroom with us, as well. Severus poured a glass and handed it to me, and began speaking as he poured one for himself.

"First of all. My pendant, and the one that you wear, have nothing to do with the Dark Lord. I purchased them for myself a very long time ago. I put mine on two years ago in order to properly perform the magickal operation that I told you about before I met you." He looked down at his glass.

Of course! It was a charged talisman. I was supposed to know such things, wasn't I? Why had I ever doubted him? I looked down at my pendant. "Thank you, Severus, for explaining that," I replied. "Wait…you gave the pendant to me the first weekend we were together," I said.

"I did," he responded, and took a drink of mead.

"Why did you do that?" I asked.

"Are you being obtuse, Rowan, or merely fishing for a compliment of some sort? My magical operation worked, and I wished to give the matching pendant to my beloved. Was that not obvious from what I said?"

"Not exactly obvious," I said, and then took another drink of mead, and relaxed against the side of the tub.

"Hmph. I wore mine for a few years when I was younger, but put it away after…after I began teaching here. When I thought that I would be alone for the rest of my life." He filled his glass and mine again after that statement.

"Thank you," I said, accepting the glass. "If it's any consolation, I was fairly sure that I'd be alone for the rest of my life, as well."

"And furthermore," he drained his glass and set it down, and then reached for mine and did the same. I hadn't finished mine, but I didn't say anything. "I need to take away the memory of you seeing me wearing that…thing. I need to take it away from both of us." He grimaced with revulsion at the thought of the mask, almost as if its touch had seared the face on his skin. Perhaps it had.

"No Memory Charm, Severus, please. I've never been quite sure about the effects of those." One of these days, I planned to discuss magickal ethics with him. Now was not the time, however.

"No. I want to fill you with another memory. I must. I should have never put the cursed thing on. Or else—Gods…no…" His eyes flashed and he gave me an intense look that I couldn't interpret. "I want to force you to suck my hard cock, right now," he growled.

"What?" I was incredulous. How could his personality have changed so quickly?

"You heard me. I want to whip you, I want to run my knives over you, and I want to fuck you until you beg for mercy. And I want to do all of it without asking you. I want to make you come until it hurts. I want to take you every way possible, over and over again. I want to take you past your limits; I want to see you bleed; I want to see you scream. I'll put you under Imperius if I have to. And if I bring you close to death, I have potions that can bring you back, and I'll do it all again, until I am satisfied." He paused for a moment.

Did he actually think I would be turned on by any of that? I was at the very furthest point away from him in the tub that I could possibly be, in an echo of the conversation we had on the first evening we met. I was unable to move; my eyes were riveted on his. Their blackness seemed unrelieved by any spark of light. I was more frightened than I had ever remembered being in my life. Instinctively, I visualized a flaming pentagram on my third eye, and mentally spoke the words to surround myself with a column of light. I attempted to regulate my breathing. And I did not drop his gaze.

A minute passed, during which neither of us moved. And then he dropped his head into his hands and sighed. "I am sorry, my love."

I didn't say anything.

He continued speaking. His voice had changed, softened a bit. "I—I can't help myself, Rowan. Do you understand? It is the effect of the mask and robe on me, they are still charged with Dark energy. I should have never removed the protective charm from around them, never taken them out of that trunk, never worn that bloody mask. What I just described…it's…it's what I used to do. None of my partners ever consented, Rowan, and I knew it all along. I always knew it, from the beginning. I reveled in it, in their submission, in their helplessness. Mithras save me, I lied to you about that part of it. The circumstances of my leaving the Dark Lord were the truth, however. Can you not understand? You said…you told me that in your country, you understood such things. You must help me. You have to help me fight it," he said.

Damn. I had no idea how to respond to that. Certainly, I understood what he had said about the robe and mask. That made sense, and I wish that we had considered it at the time. I could understand that academically, but I was having a hard time putting my mind around the rest of it.

Clearly, I was seeing another side of Severus, the one that was anything but safe, sane, and consensual. I suppose I had known it was there all along. So he had lied; and he had given an extremely edited version to me of what he had actually done in his Death Eater days. In my mind, as he told his stories, I had always pictured extremely sybaritic scenes, like something out of a 70s Fellini movie, or a Crowleyan Thelemic rite, or perhaps even one of the magazine stories I had read about the disco culture (having been a bit too young to actually participate in it). I suppose I hadn't exactly wanted him to contradict those images. I had been in denial all along. Confronted with the reality of what he had actually been like, I wanted to jump out of that tub and run down the hall. I was not finding this sexy in the least. Our erotic role-playing had not ever directly involved his past. I suppose I had been naïve about that, too. My hand reached up and I grabbed my pendant, which was strangely hot. I wasn't sure exactly why I was doing it; but somehow, over the years, it had become a talisman of safety and comfort for me.

But that perception abruptly changed as I saw in my mind a horrible scene. It was certainly not Studio 54 or a Crowleyan seraglio. A woman was lying on what looked like a long, wooden bench. I couldn't see her face. She was naked, and she was screaming. She looked as if she was bleeding from a variety of cuts on her skin. Her wrists and ankles were chained. And then two men were fucking her—one in her mouth, one between her legs. They were both wearing Death Eater garb, so I couldn't see their faces. But one of them was wearing the pendant.

"NO!" I screamed, and I started to climb out of the bathtub. This was far beyond my limits, far beyond anything I ever wanted to see or know about. I couldn't help him. I was concerned only with helping myself; I needed to find someone right away, even one of the Californians would do. But Severus grabbed me and pulled me back.

"No! Let me go!" I screamed. He continued holding me, and pulled me into an embrace, which I did not return. "I can't help you, Severus…I can't. That…what you did, it's too much. Who was that, who you showed me…No, never mind, don't tell me, I don't want to know any more!" I wasn't making any sense; I was trembling and trying to push my way out of his arms. But he was incredibly strong; I never understood how he got that way merely from stirring cauldrons. I had always meant to ask him.

"Rowan. Please stop struggling. You must help me, as I asked you. I wore that mask, brought it out from its protective charms, in order to help your friends. Can you not help me in return?" His voice was as plaintive as I had ever heard, while still managing to sound commanding. There was an uncomfortable undertone of the sinister lurking somewhere in the background, too.

"Severus," I began, hoping that perhaps I could distract him, "You _lied_ to me!"

"Yes. I did." His grip hadn't loosened in the least. "But I did it only to spare you from the horror."

I had no interest in hearing involved sophistry at this point. "Look. Could we at least get out of the bathtub to have the rest of this conversation?" My teeth were chattering. Why were we always having these horrible conversations in the tub lately? Was this somehow related to his problem with regular hair washing? I had noticed that he had let things slide in that area recently, but now was definitely not the time to discuss that.

"Yes. But you must promise to hear the rest of what I have to say," said Severus.

"For Circe's sake, how can I even believe what you're going to tell me in the first fucking place?" I said, looking directly at him.

"I swear on the Founders Four that I will tell you the truth, henceforth," he said. "And you may ask Albus to confirm anything that I say in future, anything at all." He stood up and stepped out of the tub. I was very dismayed to see that he had a huge erection. He saw where I was looking and actually blushed. "My love, you were in my arms and you are naked. You cannot think badly of me for having such a reaction. It is not related to…"

"Never mind about that. Wait a minute," I paused, just as I started to take his hand. "I DID ask Albus, two years ago. And he trusts you. And my friends asked about you as well." I accepted his hand and stepped out of the tub. I would at least give him the courtesy of hearing him out. We had been together for two years, and we were engaged, after all. He handed me a towel, and then took one for himself.

"Yes, he does trust me. There is nothing that I did during those years that he does not know about. And he showed me how to make amends and reparations. I did all that he suggested."

We walked toward Severus' bedchamber and he handed me a nightshirt, which I put on, and then extended his arm to help me up onto the bed. He then donned a nightshirt (which clearly showed that his condition had not changed), climbed up beside me, and handed me another glass of mead. I was pleased to see it; I had not appreciated having my glass removed from me in the tub.

"But he still allows you to terrorize schoolchildren," I said, smirking.

"We have already discussed this. I do not terrorize schoolchildren. Some find my teaching methods unduly harsh. I will not change in that regard. And do not smirk at me," he said, taking a sip of mead.

"Oh, pah-leeeze! That's like the, er, the cauldron calling the alembic black!" And he did terrorize children, although sometimes it was done unwittingly. So I suppose he wasn't lying about that, although I wasn't going to call him on it.

"An alembic is not usually black, my love, nor, for that matter, is a cauldron necessarily…" he began.

"Don't get technical on me! You understand what I meant. I think there's a picture of you in the dictionary next to the definition for smirk," I said, with another smirk. "And let's just drop that. So…you wanted to discuss…er….what you showed me."

"Yes. The other person in that memory…that was Macnair."

"I, uh…wait. He was that lumberjack-looking guy, right? The big one in the kilt who was next to Malfoy at the World Cup?" I remembered how I thought that he had been able to see through the Invisibility Cloak, and shuddered.

"The very same." He made a face.

"He looked…um, yucky. I thought maybe he was, um, watching me." My throat was dry, so I drank some more mead. It must have been drier than I thought, as I finished the glass.

"What do you mean, he was watching you? He is a lot more than merely…_yucky_."

"I don't know; he probably wasn't. It was probably just a coincidence. Inanna was being loud and goofy—he was probably looking at _her_—and then we ran off, remember?"

"I am not sure that I like those sorts of coincidences…" Severus said. "But that could be. At any rate, would you like some more of that?" Severus levitated the bottle of mead toward me.

"You know it." I held my glass as the floating bottle tipped a portion of golden liquid into it. After it had filled my glass, it floated over to Severus and filled his. "Handy charm, that one."

"Indeed, Filius taught me it," and he gave a small smile. "He is rather the best at foolish wand-waving," he finished.

"I have another question," I said, smiling at the thought of Flitwick, the diminutive Charms professor, actually teaching Severus anything. But appearances were deceiving in his case, just as in Rhiannon's—Severus had told me that Flitwick had been a champion duelist in his youth.

"And it is?" Severus leaned back on the pillows. He looked a bit more relaxed.

"When you said you'd swear on the Founders, does that include…Gryffindor?"

"Yes, damn it, it does." Severus growled, but in a teasing fashion.

I sat my glass down on the bedside table after finishing its contents. "Then I suppose I'll have to trust you, won't I?" I removed his glass from his hand and set it down as well. Then I kissed him.

"Rowan," he murmured, as he slid his lips down and sucked at my neck, "I realize that it will take some time for me to earn your complete trust again. Know that I value your trust dearly, just as I value your love." He pulled me closer and lowered us to the bed, moving his knee between my legs to part them. Then he lifted a hand in the air and snapped his fingers, removing both our nightshirts. He had not ever done that before.

"Have you and Filius been spending a lot of time together lately, discussing charms?" I asked.

"You've been working quite a bit lately, my dear, and I was bored," he replied, as he positioned himself between my legs and began to tease me with his tongue. I sighed and relaxed into the feeling. He ran the flat of his tongue over the most sensitive part of me again and again, until I arched up off the bed and nearly screamed with the intensity of it.

"Severus…let me…oh Gods, I'm going to come again…aaaaaahhhhhh….let me return the favor," I gasped.

"Mmmmmmmmm," he murmured his assent, and positioned himself so that I could take his prick into my mouth. It was extremely hard, and long, and pearly drops of precome covered its head. I swirled my tongue around to taste the saltiness of those drops, and Severus groaned and bucked his hips forward. We pleasured each other like this for some time, until he abruptly stopped, disengaged himself, sat up and grabbed me about the shoulders.

"I cannot wait, I have to take you now," and pulled me up so that I was on top of him, grabbed me about the hips, and shoved his cock into me. I sighed with pleasure and with anticipation of what was to come. We were so very good together; nothing had changed that, time had only increased it. I lowered my mouth to his and kissed him, and felt the vibrations when he moaned loudly as with a long thrust, he filled me completely. We rolled over on the bed so that he was on top of me. He cupped my face in his hands and began covering it in kisses, while slowly sliding his prick in and out of me in a deliciously teasing way.

"Let me sublimate myself within you, Rowan…your love makes me complete," he groaned. "And you complete me," I sighed, "I want you forever, I love you so much, Severus." He shuddered at this and we clutched at each other and the world went away. All I knew was him, and our bodies were slick with sweat and I couldn't stop coming, and then I heard his wild cries of passion as he ejaculated, and his hips spasmed against mine, and finally, every muscle in both of our bodies seemed to relax as one.

We fell, very shortly after that, into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

"Rowan?" I must have been dreaming, I suppose—a very strange dream, all about English wizards, one very intense one in particular, and snakes, and Goddess knew what else. But I was quite sure that I was behind the counter of my store in Massachusetts. "Hmm…just a second, I'll be with you in just a second," I mumbled.

"Rowan, it is time to wake up. Rhiannon and Albus want to speak with you before they perform the ceremony for us," continued the voice that seemed familiar, but out of place at the Flying Witch. The voice seemed to have an English accent; that wasn't odd in Massachusetts, though.

"What ceremony? And I'm not asleep," I groused. I actually had fallen asleep regularly on many slow weekday afternoons at the store, but I didn't appreciate this person, whoever they were, pointing that out. And who was—

Oh.

I opened my eyes. Severus was standing next to the bed, holding a tea tray, fully dressed in robes that were slightly more ornate than his usual. His hair looked slightly damp. "You were indeed asleep," he said, with a smirk. "I heard you."

"I suppose I was. For a minute there, I was sure I was back in Massachusetts, at my old store," I said, as I slowly sat up. Still feeling rather muzzy-headed with sleep, I accepted a cup of tea from Severus. "What are you wearing? And what do you mean, you heard me?" I asked, after I took a long drink of the hot beverage.

"My dear, have you forgotten what we are going to do today?" he asked, as he sat the tray down on the bedside table and procured a cup of tea for himself. "Perhaps your dream indicates that you would rather be somewhere else, hmmm?"

"Actually, no, I don't believe in going back over the same old ground," I said. Oh Gods. He was already dressed for our—

"And there is really no time for you to go to Diagon Alley as I had mentioned earlier; therefore, your Californian friend has…generously offered to assist you in Transfiguring some robes for you. Do try and ensure that she does not outfit you in anything like the wretched mess she is wearing today, will you?" He took a bite out of a biscuit from the tray.

"Severus, I'm not even awake yet. How on earth can you be so snarky at such an early hour?" I asked, examining myself under the blankets. The nightshirt had vanished at some point last night, I recalled. I was naked. I was going to have to put on something in order to have material to Transfigure. But before that, I was definitely going to need a bath.

"I could not sleep. I woke up several hours ago. And I am snarky, as you say, at all hours," he replied, as he accepted the empty tea cup that I handed him and set it on the tray.

"Isn't that the truth?" I swung my legs out from under the blankets and got up off the bed. Severus stepped close to me and pulled me into his arms. I looked up at him.

"The truth is," he began, "I am rather nervous about this enterprise."

"And you think that I'm not?" I replied.

"Well, I suppose I did not attempt to dream myself out of the situation as you did. However, I—I am…I am wary of exposing you to the risk of being so closely associated with me."

"Severus, life is a risk. Walking out of this door is a risk. We've already made our decision. Dreams notwithstanding, I can't do any more deliberating on the issue." I kissed him gently, and then slid my hands up and gently extricated myself from his grasp. "I think I should take a bath. And do you have anything I can wear that might be suitable for Transfiguration? "

"I suppose these will do," and he tossed me a nightshirt and robe. I carried them into the bathroom with me. There was already water in the tub. After a fairly quick wash (including my hair), I put on the borrowed clothes.

Together, Severus and I walked out of his chambers.


	8. Chapter 8 – Will the Circle be Unbroken?

**DARK REDEMPTION**

**Chapter 8 – Will the Circle be Unbroken?**

_**September 1994, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England**_

At the dinner prior to the Revel, Lucinda noticed that Walden seemed rather preoccupied. Nevertheless, she made her usual arrangements.

Walden was very polite to her when he came to the room, but did not make a romantic move right away, to her chagrin. He sat with her at the end of the bed.

"I've met someone, Lucinda," he said. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?" she asked. She was a bit dismayed, but not completely surprised. She'd known that their new arrangement would come to an end, eventually.

"Weeell…she's with someone else now, ye see; it's a _bit_ complicated," Walden said, and he looked down at the floor. "Would ye mind very terribly if we, er, you and I, that is," he began, and he turned to her, and took her hand. "Er, ye do know that I'll always be yer friend, and that I care for ye," he said. "And I would like to keep seeing ye here at the Revels, sharin' pleasure with ye, for a bit longer, if ye'll have me…."

"But, you love her, and eventually, you're hoping that she will come to the Revels with you," Lucinda said. "And that, as they say, will be that."

"Ye're a very smart witch, me lass," Walden said. "I was tryin' to be nicer and, er, not cut ye off just like that."

"I suppose I'm not a dangerous creature," she said.

Walden chuckled. "Nay. I wish I'd tried to get with ye before I married Isobel. Things might have been different." And with that, he took her in his arms and lowered her to the bed. "Och…please, I canna wait any more…"

_**December 1994, Hogsmeade, Scotland**_

The streets of Hogsmeade were deserted that late Tuesday afternoon when Lucius Malfoy Apparated in front of the Apothecary. Looking in the window, he noticed that the person he'd come to visit was not, in fact there. Not wishing to discuss anything with the other shop employees, he turned on the spot and Apparated in front of a rather non-descript house.

Standing on the doorstep of the house was someone he did not expect to see at all, but Lucius did his level best to regain his composure. He was not entirely successful.

"What the bloody _hell_ are you doing here, Walden?" Lucius did not shout, but he was very much tempted to.

"Looking for me lass," Walden responded, in a very calm voice, as if he'd been waiting for exactly this question. "I had a feelin' that she'd be leavin' soon. Went to get her the other night and she wasna there," he said, while frowning.

"Who on _earth_ is 'your lass'? If you mean Rowan, she is most certainly _not_ 'your lass', and what do you mean, you went to 'get her'? That's not necessary any more, the deed's been done and I thank you for it, but your services are no longer required in this matter!"

Movement on the street caused both wizards to look around.

"We'd better take this inside," Lucius said, and, to Walden's annoyance, he waved his wand to lower the magical protections around the house, then produced a key which turned obligingly in the front door lock.

After they'd both put up wards and re-locked the door, they sat together in front of the fireplace. They removed their cloaks, and Lucius had conjured armchairs and lit a fire. Although both wizards had wondered why the room wasn't furnished with much other than a couch, they'd kept their suspicions to themselves. Walden, however, noted a discarded blanket and the remains of a dinner for two and a bottle of unmarked drink on a tray, and instantly figured out what had happened.

"I want her, Lucius," Walden stated, after a very long period during which neither of them looked at each other, and he'd taken out his pipe and lit it.

"What the bloody hell do you mean? You _can't_ have her. I've already made arrangements. Find someone else. Or possibly you already have! Avery has been muttering to me that you've been insulting him, but hasn't given details. I suppose you've been doing something other than playing chess with Lucinda, have you?" Lucius produced a bottle of wine from his cloak and poured himself a glass, but did not offer any to the other wizard.

"I doona care about yer arrangements, laddie. I found her. I want her," Walden released a great puff of smoke with these words. "And leave Lucinda out of this."

"I was the one who bloody made it possible for Severus to obtain her in the first place," Lucius responded. "And I'm in need of companionship. Narcissa hasn't been obliging me in that way lately."

"Nae my problem if ye canna keep yer wife satisfied," said Walden. "I took care of me own problem by divorcing Isobel. I want the lass."

"Walden, you're being quite unreasonable. I paid you to do a job earlier this year. You did not do that job, and you didn't return my Galleons." Lucius paused and took another sip of wine. "Don't bother to explain, I heard what happened a while back. Nott's wife was shopping at Gladrags that day; seems Isobel made quite the impression. I gave you another chance to do a different job, and I must admit you did it rather well. You must have been watching her for quite a while before you bothered to contact me," he added.

Walden didn't respond; he merely puffed away on his pipe.

"I need someone to manage my Connecticut estate," Lucius continued. "She's an American, and she clearly understands the requirements of the Colonies. From what I can tell, she was raised properly, or at the very least, as proper as things get over there. Mind you, I think she may have been immersed in Muggle society at some point, but these days, that sort of behavior is nearly unavoidable. I'm not going to be marrying her, anyway, so I can overlook that. Once I get her away from Severus for good, I'll send her back over there and set her up properly.

"I think ye'll find she willna be interested in that, Lucius."

"I'll make her interested. I've been working on it for weeks now."

"Aye, and she'll throw that curse of yers off soon enough. Ye doona know her like I do."

"Don't be absurd, all you did was hang round in Diagon Alley and then here, peeking in her windows, and wanking off…or going over to Madam Mystery's when you were done gawping at her. Now cease this foolishness. You're simply lusting after her, which is understandable after that night; but there are many other witches you could be pursuing. And of course, there are always the Revels. Why don't you try taking Avery out of the picture? I could help you there," Lucius added, with a sly grin.

"Thought ye said I did a good job, laddie." Walden scowled at Lucius as he tapped his pipe on the ashtray and started reloading it with tobacco.

"And it was all on my orders, for something that I want. And we're bloody even now, and I wish to keep it that way."

"I want her, Lucius, and I willna give in on this. I'm going to ask her to marry me."

"What?! When the bloody hell _have_ you been seeing her, anyhow?" Lucius blurted. "We have an arrangement!"

"And _we_ have one, too. I see her on weekends after I'm done at the Ministry. We fuck for hours. She canna get enough of me." Walden relit his pipe and puffed on it yet again.

"I never asked you to share her with me!" Lucius shouted.

"Ye did that night, if ye remember…and I never stopped!"

"I instructed her to not go near you again, if you must know."

"Aye, ye told her I was a brute and tried to force her with that damn curse. I know all about it. I'm telling ye…she's goin' ta throw that off, it's nae strong enough for a Celtic lass…she may even have Pictish blood," Walden sat his pipe down. Then he stood up and loomed over Lucius, his hand hovering ever so slightly over the pocket where his wand was. "We've known each other for a verra long time. Ye're me brother Knight, and I consider ye a friend. But I'm _nae_ backin' off on this. She's mine!"

"And I say, she's mine, all bought and paid for. What are you willing to give up to have her?" Lucius sat down his wine and then stood up and glared at Walden. He was shorter than the other wizard, but he was no less impressive…and he also picked up his cane.

"I've made her mine, Lucius. She willna be wantin' ye now, anyway," Walden said. "So _I_ willna be givin' anythin' up, _ye_ will!"

"And how on earth do you think you were able to do that?"

"I went to me cousin," Walden said.

"Not that insane one that Bellatrix was always hanging 'round?" Lucius said. "From what I understand, everything she does comes with a price, as well…Bella was even a little afraid of her, I think." He sat back down in the chair and crossed his legs.

"Aye, it was a little frightenin' now that I think of it…the price was me hard prick; I fucked her until she couldna stand up for three damn days. I had tae drink a case of Pepper-Up when I was done. But she gave me what I asked for, in the end." Walden had an indecipherable look on his face, and he did not sit down.

"I can't believe you did that, Walden! That old magick does work rather effectively, but you _will_ be giving something up eventually, when you least expect it, mark my words!" He shook his finger to emphasize this last point.

"But I willna be givin' her up, and ye will. Ye didna even want her until I did Sangre on her and found out she was a Pureblood! And _ye_ would have given her up in a year when ye got tired o' her, anyway! I bet ye were planning tae just owl her some Galleons every month and leave her over there in America!"

There was a very long pause that served as silent assent to Walden's assertion.

"Very well, then," Lucius finally said. "I suppose I _could_ make other arrangements."

"Ye'll have ta. I'm goin' to America tae get her, and she'll come back and live with me." He sat down in the chair and began to fiddle with his pipe. "Och, I canna wait to see her again," he said, looking down at his hands.

"Great Salazar's ghost, I do believe you're in love, Walden. How very, very touching…whoever would have thought it? If this news gets 'round the Ministry, your job might be in jeopardy," Lucius added, with a wry smile. "You _will_ bring her to the Revels, though?" he added.

"O' course I will."

"And whatever _will_ you do about Lucinda?" Lucius had an evil grin on his face, as he stood up and began donning his cloak.

"None o' yer damn business, laddie! And ye'll be leavin' her alone, too. She's me friend."

"I thought _we_ were friends, Walden," he said.

"Nae so sure about that most o' the time, really," Walden muttered.

_**February 1995, Avery Residence, Somerset, England**_

It was an exceedingly cold morning. Lucinda Avery sat alone in the kitchen of her country house, drinking a cup of tea and paging through _Witch Weekly_. She did not know where her husband had gone the previous evening, nor did she want to. They maintained separate suites, and Lucinda had lately been toying with the idea of finding her own residence.

She'd known all along that the affair with Walden had been merely an interlude—_an exceedingly pleasant and diverting one_, her mind added—but, as he hadn't said anything about his mysterious love while they'd trysted at the October Revel, she'd allowed herself to daydream that, possibly, the nameless, faceless witch was no longer in the picture. After all, he had said that he'd wished he'd been with her before Isobel…so, one exceedingly lonely night when she'd had a bit too much wine with dinner, she'd gone upstairs and indulged herself fully, using some spells she hadn't intoned since she'd been in her 20s, at the end of which she wondered if it might be nice to live at a hunting lodge. Although she'd been one of the wives who insisted, after the Dark Lord's defeat, that there not be a Revel around Christmas, she'd almost been tempted to owl Lucius to suggest that he have one anyway.

And speaking of owls, there was a rather large barn owl at her window, one that she didn't recognize. The eagle owl from Malfoy Manor had arrived with the expected Revel invitation earlier that week; Avery had actually been there that night and had sent their reply. After he opened the window and sent the owl off, he'd given her a very odd look, in fact, but as she was used to ignoring him she merely shrugged it off.

She opened the window. The owl had a leather strap attached to one of its claws; hanging from the strap, there was a shiny silver disk engraved with a stylized initial "M." In the owl's beak, there was a letter, addressed to her in very neat handwriting…_neat, and perfectly straight_, she thought, just like his mustache, which she'd always liked. The return address was his office at the Ministry…and after she read the letter, she concluded that maybe he _had_ thought she was dangerous, after all, as he'd severed ties with her quite cleanly, and through official channels.

* * *

Prior to the February Revel, Lucinda performed a number of complicated charms on her hair and her face, starting the night before the event, which caused her to oversleep just a bit. In the assembly room, Lucinda drank her potion along with the others and then proceeded down to Room 15. She added a single name to one hour on the parchment and handed it off to the house-elf, wondering what would happen. A few hours went by with no raps upon her door, and thus she alternately napped and read a book she'd brought with her, although it was difficult to concentrate on the words. She had brought the chess set, too, for old times' sake, but left it in her evening bag.

After the rather embarrassing dust-up with Snape during the drinks hour, Lucinda had not been a bit surprised to hear Walden's engagement announcement at the end of dinner. Afterward, Isobel had grabbed both her and Miranda Nott to demand that they back her up when she confronted the '_husband-stealing Yankee hussy'. _Truth be told, Lucinda couldn't bring herself to be angry at the red-haired witch—Isobel had never been pleasant company, even when they were at school together. Further, she knew that their divorce was final, so no actual 'stealing' had occurred. And Walden had looked so exceedingly happy—she'd even overheard him saying that he would be a father again soon, and she knew he'd wanted that.

So when Isobel had staged her confrontation during the coffee and dessert hour, she'd actually smiled at the woman when she'd stood up to Isobel's absurd and pointless saber-rattling. She was very, _very_ Celtic…a much better match for Walden than she, herself, had been, she admitted reluctantly.

She'd nearly dozed off yet again when the bell rang for the hour she'd chosen. Several minutes passed without incident. She was just about ready to Apparate to her guest room when there was a soft knock on the door.

"My dear, dear Lucinda," Lucius said, as he kissed her hand. "I must say, I am both surprised and exceedingly pleased that you chose me this evening. You are looking rather well." He put his arm around her and led her to the bed. "I do hope you weren't expecting a chess match, though; I've had quite a bit of potion."

She grabbed him and kissed him and said, "Pawn to D4."

He chuckled. "I accept the queen's gambit," he said, as he reached up and slid his robe over his head and tossed it in the corner.

**TO BE CONTINUED in DATE WITH AN EXECUTIONER...**


End file.
